Paper Wings
by Holywoodunderfed
Summary: Set in the alternate timeline introduced in Episode 3 of the original LiS: Max has it all. She's the Queen Bee of Blackwell, she's got friends and everyone at the palm of her hand. But she's missing one thing, and he avoids her. Chloe is on the road to recovery, but she needs a little help. It just so happens that help comes from the most surprising places.
1. The Catalyst

**This story takes place in the alternate timeline introduced in Episode 3 of the original Life is Strange. It's also a slight AU. Rachel is still alive.**

 **Max:**

"Max? Maxine?"

Max blinked several times before shifting her gaze at her best friend, Victoria. Vic looked almost worried about her, but that wasn't unusual. Vic always waited on Max hand and foot, like it was her duty. Not that Max minded, but her insistence could be a little annoying.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You were completely zoned out, Maxine. It's like you were in another universe. Are you already tweaking?"

Max rolled her eyes. "No, I'm fine. I was just lost in thought. First week back for the spring semester and all. Pass me the blunt."

Vic nodded. She took the blunt from Hayden and lit up. After one puff, she passed it to Max.

The rest of their Vortex Club were scattered in a small circle on the north western part of the courtyard. It was a nice day for mid-January, enough for the group to wear their spring wear. Max sat in between Victoria and Courtney.

The girl in question took out her pink lighter and lit it up one more time. As she inhaled, she took another chance to peer at the boy sitted across the campus grounds. He was seated next to Stella Hill. He was talking very animatedly, using his hands to describe something Max could not hear nor follow.

She felt something in her chest. A bizarre feeling she could not place. Slowly, she exhaled the reefer smoke that burned through her system.

She passed the blunt unceremoniously to Courtney. Her eyes remained locked on the boy across the courtyard.

"Maxine? Maxine?"

Max blinked. "What do you _want_ Vic?" It annoyed Max that Victoria insisted to call her Maxine, despite Max's persistence that she NOT be called that.

Victoria flushed slightly. "I just wanted to ask if you heard from Nathan yet?"

Max turned her full attention back to her friend. "I haven't heard from him since I broke my phone, Vic." Technically, Max hadn't heard from anyone since she dropped her phone in the parking lot of the school. It shattered into multiple pieces. After classes, she plans on getting a new one.

"He texted me. He wants to know if you're chilling at the party tonight. It's going to be super dope."

Max shrugged. Another party sounded fun. She had a chemistry test tomorrow, but she's sure her grades will survive. It was bullshit that Ms. Grant was already making them test when they were barely a week into the semester, but go figure. She knew she never should've switched her classes from bio to chem, but she hated bio. Oh well, it's not like Max Caulfield actually planned to study.

"Yeah, you know I'll be there. Is Rachel actually coming this time? Or is she ditching us again?"

"Yeah, she's finally going. I'm glad you're coming. Nathan is _so_ into you by the way," Victoria couldn't help but mention. Max wasn't surprised by her friend's deduction. Nathan had been all over her since she returned to Arcadia Bay. He was cute, in his own way, Max just wasn't sure if she was into him.

"He's cute," she admitted. "And he's fun to hang with, but I'm more interested in having fun then being in a relationship."

"Oh, you little ho!" Vic slapped her arm playfully. She almost looked relieved. Almost.

"Whatever," Max giggled. "I didn't mean like that! You knew what I meant by that!"

"Sure," Victoria replied sarcastically.

The blunt made its second round back to Victoria. Vic puffed once on it before passing it to Max. Max took a small hit before passing it to Courtney.

She returned to staring at the boy once again. Stella Hill had now left him, and now he returned to the notebook. His tongue stuck out of his mouth slightly while he concentrated.

Max jabbed her elbow lightly into Vic's ribs. "Yeah?"

"Who is that?" Max muttered.

"That?" Victoria snickered. "That's Gayram."

Max blinked. "Is that, like, his actual name?"

"No," Vic laughed. "That's what all the boys call him. His name is Warren Graham. Why do you care?"

Max ignored her last question. "Is he new?"

"No. He's been here since I was a freshman. Why the sudden interest in Graham?"

"I dunno," Max shrugged. "I just don't remember seeing him before."

Vic cocked an eyebrow. "You sure? He's in that chemistry class you transferred too, yet you didn't notice him?"

"I had my phone then," Max shrugged.

Victoria snorted. "No wonder why Nathan has so much time to text me now! He's been texting you during class!"

"Better than listening to Ms. Grant lecture about chemical formulas. I swear if I have to listen to Ms. Grant say the word "sodium" one more time I'm going to shoot myself."

"You go off girl!"

Max smiled. Glancing briefly, she noticed the boy, Warren apparently, was packing up his stuff. Perhaps he was getting ready for his next class.

Reacting quickly, Max pulled out her camera. "Selfie Vic? While we wait for Hayden to pack the bowl?"

"Sure!" Vic chittered excitedly.

"Away from the sun," Max muttered.

The two adjusted themselves and positioned themselves away from the sun. With a _snap_ of her instant camera, she had produced a very good selfie of the two friends. In the backround, Warren Graham was walking away, a backpack in tow.

"Hey Hayden! Are you done packing that bowl yet?"

"Yeah, I am," he chuckled good naturedly. "You want the first hit, Max?"

"Of course," she smiled. Sometimes, it was good to be the Queen Bee of Blackwell.

 **Chloe:**

She was alone.

Finally, she loved her parents but they've been smothering as of late. A few months ago, Chloe was sitting at home, just after a visit from her good friend, Max, when she felt _it._

Her finger twitched. She thought she imagined it. But when she tried again, and again, and again.

It kept happening. Then, like an itch you can't stop scratching, she couldn't stop moving her fingers. She was playing a symphony only she could hear.

She was excited to tell her parents. And they were absolutely over the moon to hear that Chloe was regaining control of her limbs.

It was hell. Chloe wanted to get up and move. She wanted to remember what it was like to walk. To run.

She hasn't regained that feeling. Now matter how hard she's tried to move a toe, a foot, a leg, it hasn't worked.

She hasn't had much ability to try. Joyce and William had been smothering her since she told them. Not that she blamed them. They had been praying for a breakthrough just as much as she had.

She was happy for them, but she couldn't be contented with regaining control of just her upper body. She wanted more.

Taking a deep breath, she sat up on her butt. She grabbed her legs and swung them over her bed. She grabbed the crutch near her bed, if all goes well she won't need it.

Not that anything goes "well" for Chloe.

Nervously, she planted her feet and leaned on her crutch. She felt disheartened that she couldn't move her legs, but she stood.

Out of bravery, or perhaps stupidity, she stood. One second, two seconds, three. Perhaps, this was the mirac-

She fell on her face.


	2. Serendipity

**Max:**

Max was so hungover. She would have never agreed to do the multiple shots Vic suggested if she knew she would feel this terrible. Nathan tried to be a sweetheart by taking her to the dorms, but Rachel intervened and took her back to her house.

At least, that's what Rachel said.

Max hadn't been in the mood to deal with anyone today. Not after the Amber's were nice enough to make her coffee. Not even when Vic squealed (literally squealed) about her and Nathan apparently passionately kissing last night. Not for Nathan's invitations to meet up after school.

She wasn't in the mood for any of it.

Her classes drawled on like a tortoise on sleeping meds. She tried to fight the urge to pass out, but she seemed to be on the ropes. She couldn't even be excited for Mr. Jefferson's class.

Max slumped her way to her final class of the day: Chemistry. She yawned.

She was relieved she was finally at Chemistry class. Partly because it was the last class of her day, and partly because she could sit in the back and no one could bother her.

Max was in fact doing that just now. She arrived at her class to sit in the back. She sighed before reaching into her pocket to salvage her phone.

She heard, rather than saw, the door open. Stepping through was that boy she watched the day before. What was his name? William? Wallace?

"Hello, Warren," Ms. Grant greets her student.

"Hello, Ms. Grant!" the boy called.

Max unwillingly smiled. His enthusiasm was a little infectious, even if she didn't share a shred of it.

It disappeared once she spotted the girl behind him. Stella Hill sauntered right behind him, a grin of her own. Max felt a wave of heat flow throughout her body. She felt angry.

Jealous. She was jealous of Stella. That's what she felt the day before. It doesn't make sense why she's jealous of Stella Hill for knowing this boy.

Now that he was up close, she took in his features. He was taller than her, but not too tall, not Logan tall. A good tall. He was fair skinned, with brown eyes and subtle baby cheeks. His curly brown hair was long for a guy, but it suited his face well. He wore a dark grey t-shirt with a drawing of the Periodic Table with the inscription "yeah, I'll work… periodically".

He was a nerd. How… charming.

She couldn't tell what they were saying, but she could hear their voices. She liked his voice. It was boyish, yet light, not threatening.

Her phone vibrated. Nathan. His text was along the lines of being bored in Mr. Clark's class. He double texted her, asking what she's doing after Chem.

Max closed her messaging app, leaving Nathan ignored. She didn't feel like being on her phone for this class period.

She smoothed her sweaty palms on her white pants. Just as she looked back up, Stella was making her leave. Warren half-waved towards her. If Stella noticed Max's simmering stare, she never let Max know. The photographer turned her attention to the back of the boy's head. She could not figure out why she felt so drawn to him. He made her nervous, even though he probably didn't even realize she existed. He-

"Okay, class," Ms. Grant cut through Max's hungover thoughts. "Clear your desks. I hope you're all ready for the test."

Max audibly groaned. She had forgotten all about the stupid freaking test.

Ms. Grant looked more than a little amused as she handed out her test. "As per always, no talking. When you finish, please put your tests on my desk, then, you are free to go for the weekend."

Max sighed. The weekend. She can't wait to let go. Nathan was talking about hosting another party, maybe she could ask that boy to go… everyone likes a party…

She wrote her name on her test and then… she was stumped. She didn't know the answer to a single question.

She swallowed. She felt embarrassed. Thankfully, no one knew how stupid she felt.

Barely ten minutes later, she heard the shuffling at a desk. Unbelievably, Warren Graham stood and confidently strode to Ms. Grant's desk and laid his paper down. Ms. Grant smiled and nodded at her star pupil.

"How in the hell?" Max whispered.

It might as well have been written in another language. She just couldn't understand the various mumbo jumbo and formulas that the paper offered. Eventually, she gave up. She scribbled in random answers.

C looked good for 23. Potassium seemed fine for 5. She said something random about argon for the essay. It was hopeless.

She was the second to last to turn in her paper. She approached the desk and tiredly let the sheet fall onto the desk. Ms. Grant shot her a curious glance. Huffing a breath, Max turned to leave.

"Hold on, Ms. Caulfield. I would like a word with you."

"Uh, sure," Max replied simply.

She returned to Ms. Grant's desk. Ms. Grant quickly rifled through her test. She repeatedly made marks with her red pen. Max couldn't help but feel a small bubble of anxiety flare in her chest.

"Is something wrong?" she willed herself to ask.

Instead of answering, Ms. Grant instead called over her shoulder, "Garrett, are you almost done?"

Garrett, a husky kid that was just taller than her stood up suddenly. He handed her his paper, "Just finished!" he rushed out. With one look of terror directed at Queen Bee Max, Garrett fled as fast as his thick legs could carry him from the classroom.

Max turned to her teacher. "Is something wrong?" she asked once again.

"Yeah," Ms. Grant chuckled. "Your entire test."

Ms. Grant flipped the paper over. In big bold numbers, Max could clearly read _2/60._

"How is that possible?" Max whispered, slightly distraught.

"All questions were worth 2 points, with the essay being worth 10. You quite literally missed every question except one."

Max cringed. She did absolutely awful. Not like she gave a rat's ass about Chem, but her hangover, and knowledge of her stupidity embarrassed her and enraged her.

"Is that all?"

Ms. Grant sighed. "Max, I had some serious doubts when you transferred from Mrs. Peters' Biology class to my Chemistry. Although, I know you are a bright student, when you choose to apply yourself. I'm not mad you've given such little effort in my class, but I am disappointed."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Grant." Max extended her lip into a pouting gesture. She was the Queen Bee of the school. Surely, a simple chemistry teacher would be lenient.

Ms. Grant seemed unimpressed by Max's uninspired apology. "I know you can do better Max, even if you don't have the passion for the sciences. Need I remind you that your scholorship to Blackwell could be in jeopardy?"

Max gulped. Her face became a light shade of pink. She wouldn't…

"I thought so," Ms. Grant muttered upon seeing Max's reaction. "I know with the right… inspiration… you can do better. Because as of right now, you are failing my class. This is not a hole you want to be dug in for very long. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," Max whispered. She just wanted to go. God, she needed a drink. And a smoke.

"Now, in one week's time, we will be taking another test. That last test only covered the last half chapter, this test will cover the _entire_ chapter. Needless to say, you give the same performance on that test, you won't be able to climb out of that hole."

"I understand."

"Good. I need you to understand, I will not allow you to retake this test. You made the choice to be on your damn phone, and not pay attention, and not study. Instead, you chose to party and take the test through a hangover."

"How did-?"

"It's written all over your face, Max. Besides, you know as well as anyone that the students talk."

"I see."

"It's not all doom and gloom, Ms. Caulfield. I have arranged one of my brightest minds to help tutor you for the next week, both as a favor, both as extra credit. He will meet you at the study section of the library tonight at 6. I expect you to be there. Do I make myself clear?"

"No offense, Ms. Grant," Max started trepidatiously, "but what's to stop me from not meeting this guy…"

"Your scholarship, Ms. Caulfield. I'm sure Principal Wells would be grateful to be informed of your performance today."

"Shit," Max whispered.

Ms. Grant sighed. "I don't like this either, Ms. Caulfield. But you forced my hand. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes," Max couldn't help but hiss. "I understand."

"Good." Ms. Grant seemingly ignored Max's tone. "And Max?"

"Yes?" An exasperated Max turned to face her teacher. Her pale hand rested on the door frame. Her small body itching to burst out into the fresh air that was promised it.

"I believe you have the potential to be one of Blackwell's best students. Please, do not waste it."

Confused, Max furrowed her eyebrows. "I won't, Ms. Grant." She felt surprisingly genuine as she added. "I won't waste it."

Briefly, she wandered what nerd Ms. Grant was forcing her to hang out with, but she shook the thought off. She needed to detox her head.

Now.

 **Chloe:**

William gently dabbed at Chloe's bruised face with a rag. She had a bruise just above her left eye from her fall the day before. Chloe closed her eyes, she felt appreciative of her father's care, even if she felt it wasn't needed.

"I'm fine, Dad. Really," she insisted.

"I know, sweetheart," William smiled. He always had a way to make her feel better. Even when she was being a brat.

"Next time you try a stunt like that, try to have someone with you to break your fall."

"I know," Chloe admitted. "I was dumb. I just want-"

"You just want to walk again. I know, Chloe."

Chloe sighed. She frowned, hating that she was still being babied.

"Hey," William consoled softly. "Chin up." He gently pushed her chin upwards with two fingers. "It's a miracle that you can even feel from the waist up. I'm sure in time you'll feel your legs too."

Chloe smiled. "You're right, Dad. Guess I could work on my reaction time, huh?"

William winked playfully. "That's the spirit."

William dabbed at Chloe's face a little longer before stashing it away. He stood, carefully regarding her. "Your mother and I are going out again."

Chloe frowned, surprised. "After I fell on my face, I was sure you'd never leave the house again."

"We thought about it," William laughed. "But we thought it'd be a better idea to hire a baby sitter."

Chloe snorted in derision. "I don't need a baby sitter."

"After the stunt you pulled?" William chuckled. You're lucky we don't put you on a baby monitor. The sitter we hired is your age. Your mom and I feel like you'll like her."

As if on cue, the door bell rang. William grinned. "That should be her."

Her dad dashed out of the room. Chloe quickly combed her long, auburn brown hair with her finger nails. She hoped this baby sitter wasn't a bitch. She could use human contact outside of her Mom and Dad

William opened the door to her room, a broad smile on his face. To his left was a girl. She was appoximately her age, with long dirty blonde hair, fair skinned, with hazel eyes. She wore a black tank top under a blue and black flannel, jeans and black shoes. She had one earring in her ear, a blue one.

She was absolutely gorgeous. So much so that Chloe felt even more nervous.

"Chloe, meet Rachel Amber."

"Hey," Rachel nodded.

"Hi," Chloe greeted.

William smiled. His smile was always infectious. "Well, I'd hate to leave you guys like this, but if we want to make our reservation, we have to go now. We'll be back in a few hours!"

Chloe watched with wide eyes as William left the two alone. The sound of the door shutting only added to her anxiety.

"So…" she muttered.

"Blade Runner?" Rachel pointed to a poster on the wall to Chloe's left. Chloe glanced at the poster, surprised that Rachel was so amused by it.

"Um, yeah. Blade Runner. It's only, like, one of my favorite movies of all time."

"Nice, me too. It's a hella good movie."

"Hella?"

"It's a Cali thing," she shrugs playfully.

"You're from Cali?"

"Originally," Rachel sat. "Then I moved to this shithole."

"Tell me about it," Chloe rolled her eyes. "So, you're supposed to babysit me?"

"You could say that. I think of it more as a "paid friendship'."

"So, the only reason you're being nice to me is because my parents are paying you?"

"Well, when you put it that way, it makes me sound like an asshole."

The girls mutually laughed. Rachel grinned towards Chloe while she looked away shyly, a hint of a blush on her cheeks.

Rachel stood from her seat on Chloe's bed. The blonde casually checked out her "paid friend's" room. Chloe's stack of albums caught her attention.

"You listen to Firewalk?"

"Hells yeah," Chloe replied. "They're one of my favorites."

"So you're a closet punk? Respect."

Chloe smiled. "You know," Rachel glanced at the album cover, "You'd look good with blue hair."

Chloe snorted. "As if. I'll probably keep my dull brown hair for the rest of my life."

Rachel just chuckled. She lazily brushed a loose strand of hair behind her own ear.

Rachel continued her lazy search. Chloe watched her for a second longer, before coming to a conclusion.

"You know, you remind me of a friend of mine."

"Really?" Rachel said. She dropped one of Chloe's movies back onto the dresser. She leaned against the furniture, an amused look on her face. "Who?"

"My, uh, childhood best friend. Max."

"Max?"

"Yeah, we grew up together until I was 13. Then she moved to Seattle. Ironically, she just moved back here a few months ago."

"Wait. Max... Caulfield?"

"Uh, yeah, actually?"

Rachel shook her head, bemusement written all over her face. "I can't believe I remind you of the Stoner Slut of Blackwell."

"E- excuse me?"

"Oh," Rachel shrugged. "Sorry. I'm maybe exaggerating a little. Max is okay, actually. She just comes off as a little pretentious. Less of a bitch than Victoria, at least."

"Oh, I see."

"I was just surprised. I don't see any similarities between Max and myself."

"Well," Chloe shrugged. "You're both funny, and sarcastic, you both love looking through my stuff, and apparently both of you are my friends. Both of you are cool."

Rachel smiled warmly. She pushed herself off of the dresser. She regarded Chloe carefully before sitting beside her again. "Thanks, Price. You're pretty cool yourself."

The two girls shared a heartwarming smile. Chloe's felt her anxiety fall away, yet her heart continued to beat rapidly. From this distance, she could smell Rachel's strawberry shampoo. Still, a worry was pressing on Chloe's mind.

"Is Max really a stoner slut?"

"No," Rachel sighed. "Well… kinda? She's a definite stoner, not _much_ of a slut."

"Not much?"

"Let's just say that Nathan Prescott is a little _too_ into her sometimes, and I think she unintentionally leads him on. It gets really tiring."

"Yeah, weird to hear about your best friend. Her, uh, true colors I guess. I guess Seattle must have changed her more than she let on."

"I guess." Rachel scanned the room one more time. She paused at a corkboard attatched to Chloe's wall. On it was a collage of photos. Rachel paid close attention to a photo from Chloe and Max at age 13 and a poloroid taken just over a month prior.

Turning from the board with a small frown, something else caught Rachel's eye. Pointing to the crutches, she asked hopefully, "Can you walk?"

Chloe sighed. She could not help but let the sadness creep into her tone. "Not yet."

Rachel seemed to consider her response for a second. Then, she grabbed the wheel chair over in the corner of the room. "What are you doing?" Chloe couldn't help but inquire.

"I like you, Price, and no offense, but your life is hella sad right now. I think you need something to take the edge off."

Chloe's eyes widened in surprise. She couldn't help but feel a little tingle of excitement. "Like what?"

Rachel maneuvered the wheelchair to a stop just in front of Chloe's bed. One charming smile later, Chloe was hooked. "Would you like to go to a party with me?"


	3. One Miracle at a Time

**Chloe:**

"I'm not so sure…" Chloe answered honestly. A party? Now? Chloe couldn't believe this was happening.

She was just getting over the immense pain she experienced day to day from her accident. By some miracle, she could feel everything from the waist up, and now, a beautiful, _sexy_ stranger comes in and dazzles her with her charm.

Chloe almost wanted to pinch herself to check that she wasn't dreaming. Recent events felt like a delusion. Any moment now she's going to wake up, completely immobile and in unbearable agony.

And yet, this was reality.

This was everything she was dreaming of, yet she was hesitent. She just wasn't sure if she was ready.

"Are you worried?"

"Yeah," Chloe mumbled. "I haven't been to a party since I was, like, fifteen…"

"You'll be okay," Rachel reassured. "I'll be there, and I'm very sure Max will be there. You'll be fine."

Rachel's voice was so soothing and comforting, Chloe couldn't help but believe in her.

After some thought, Chloe eventually relented. Still unassured, she agreed. "Okay."

Rachel's eyes lit up like she was a kid on Christmas. Chloe couldn't help but smirk seeing her reaction. She liked making her smile.

"Cool. But you're not going in that."

Chloe frowned and peered down at herself. She was wearing a dark red muffin t shirt and jeans.

"What's wrong with this?"

Rachel chuckled, obviously amused. "Nothing. If you're going to a 4th grade sock hop. Thankfully, you're going to a party with me. You're going to need some better clothes."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the girls sat in Rachel's living room. Chloe watched, albiet reluctantly, as Rachel picked out several clothes for her to wear.

"I still don't see why we have to give a shit about what the other people think."

Rachel looked at her in amusement. "There's that teenage dirtbag in you."

Chloe rolled her eyes. It was a little annoying to play dress up, but it was fun. It sounded childish, but she missed hanging out at a friend's. Playing dress up, in fact.

The Amber's house was spectacular. Chloe was in awe the second she stepped on the property. Rachel had left Chloe apologetically in the living room at the couch while she grabbed some clothes in her room. It was sad and unfair. Chloe wanted to explore Rachel's room. She wanted to know more about this mystifying stranger that tip-toed into her life.

She supposes she should count her blessings. She's lucky she's even able to move her arms. Yet, dammit. She wanted _more_.

She was irritated. She couldn't help but feel this was all arbitrary. But, she was having fun.

"I just don't see the point is all."

Rachel grabbed two different sets of outfits. "You're right to some degree. We don't give a shit about what the others think. But I think you need a change of style."

"What's wrong with my style?"

She could tell Rachel was biting her tongue from another sarcastic remark. Rachel pulled up a chair from the kitchen and sat in it backwards. "I wasn't supposed to tell you, but your parents are looking into getting you re-enrolled into Blackwell or some other high school next fall."

"Shit," Chloe whispered. It all makes sense now. All the physical training to get Chloe used to manuevering in her wheelchair. All the strain of the past few months. All the recent focus on home schooling. Joyce and William wanted her to reintegrate into school.

Chloe let loose a string of curses that received an amused reaction from Rachel. It ended with Chloe asking rhetorically and sarcastically, "What, do they think I'll wheel away?"

Rachel laughed. She hunched forward and ran out of breath from her spasms of laughter. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she begged. "It's just," leaned back and took a deep sigh. "Your parents talked you up like you were some precious angel. It was sweet, but I knew there was more to you. Seeing your rebel side is… cool."

Chloe smirked. "So it's funny?"

Rachel matched her facial expression. "I'm just appreciative of irony."

"Seriously tho, Chlo. You are this cute little punk. You need a style that shows it."

Chloe felt heat rise to her cheeks. A small little smile found its way to her cheeks. Fortunately, Rachel was busy setting her clothes in front of the brunette.

"So please, choose an outfit. Then we can go. I'm not going to beg if you don't want it."

Her earnest confession finally pursuaded Chloe. Leaning forward, she examined her two outfits. One was a somewhat provocative yet obviously punk white tank top with a sick skull and dagger design, ripped jeans and boots. The other was a red t shirt with a black raven design, skinny jeans, a denim jacket, and black sneakers.

Considering carefully, she asked, "Could I… mix them?"

Rachel smirked. A gleam in her eye was actively visible. "Of course."

* * *

As Rachel led Chloe to the Blackwell Pool, Chloe couldn't help but reminisce in her last day at Blackwell. She was only 16 at the time.

She was a different person then. She was bright and carefree. Boisterous even. She was invincible.

Now, she was vulnerable. Exposed. She was wounded, but she wasn't broken. She refused to let this second chance slip away. She made a promise to herself to live vivaciously. Carpe Diem. But she shouldn't overextend herself. After all, as her Dad implied, one miracle at a time.

A thought occured to her then. Chloe retrieved her marker she always took with her and tagged the side of the pool building with her left hand.

 _One Miracle at a Time_

Rachel just watched Chloe. When Chloe finished, she glanced back at her. Her companion gazed at her with an expression Chloe couldn't read.

"You're left handed?"

"Ambidextrous."

"Ah," she nodded. "So you swing both ways."

"Something like that," Chloe smirked.

Rachel smiled at the thought. Her expression changed once she glanced back at the building. Thumping music could be heard through the brick walls. In the windows, both girls could easily spot the flashing strobe lights used by the DJ the students obviously hired.

"You ready?"

Chloe took a moment. Truth be told, she did feel more comfortable in Rachel's clothes. She decided on the tank top, the denim jacket, the ripped jeans and the boots. She wore the beanie too, even though it kept sliding off. Rachel suggested she cut her hair. Her only reply was "maybe".

She was still miffed at the fact Rachel had to help her with the pants, but she put that past her. For some reason, she didn't feel embarrassed with Rachel when it came to her "condition." And Rachel didn't treat her like anything less of a person because of it.

"I'm ready."

Rachel nodded, her face becoming ever so slightly more stressed. She grabbed the handles of Chloe's wheelchair.

"I can do it myself. Thanks Rach."

"Okay," Rachel stepped in front of her and bowed. "After you then," she motioned magnanimously with her arm.

"With pleasure."

Rachel opened the door and allowed Chloe to go in first. Immediately, she was assaulted by sound and atmosphere. The music caused mini earthquakes around her chair, yet no one payed much attention to the handicapped girl crossing the threshold. No one, except a girl Chloe didn't recognize.

The girl glanced at Chloe with a peculiar expression. Before she seemed bored, almost wistful. Now she glared at Chloe in confusion and curiosity.

"You look famil-"

Rachel stepped around Chloe and intercepted the girl midsentence. "Hey, Sam. Where's Steph?"

The girl, Sam, sighed. "She's playing some D&D with the boys. You know the drill. I agreed to help usher this stupid party for a few bucks."

"Don't you just love capitalism?"

"Tell me about it. Who's your-?"

"Friend," Chloe answered. "I'm Chloe."

Sam seemed to consider her. "Chloe…"

"Price?"

Recognition seemed to dawn on Sam's face. "Didn't you go to school here?"

"I used to," Chloe shrugged as if it was not a big deal. "Until this thing." She motioned to the wheelchair. Truthfully, she liked seeing how uncomfortable people got when she discussed her injury. It was a sort of sick pleasure.

Sam didn't seem to be phased. "I see." She unexpectedly smiled warmly. "Well, I'm Samantha. Most people call me Sam."

"And I'm still Chloe," she deadpanned.

Sam laughed. "Thanks, I needed that. Go on in, girls. Any friend of Rachel's is a friend of mine. I like the outfit by the way."

"Thanks." She couldn't help but feel a little relieved. She had worried about things going drastically wrong, but so far they were going alright.

As she wheeled herself down the pool side, she was assaulted visually by the strobe lights flashing throughout. Strangers she didn't know girated and grinded like there wasn't a tomorrow. Drinks were passed out and Top 40s music blasted through hidden speakers.

It was intimidating, that's for sure. Still, Chloe pushed on. She wheeled past the drunk kids and the stoners while Rachel gave her directions. They agreed that they should probably find Max.

Neither of the girls talked as they weaved their way through the throng of students. A few people glanced at Chloe curiously, but she paid them no attention.

A boy Chloe had never seen before turned. He was tall with close cropped brown hair, a tan, and brown eyes. He wore a simple dark red t shirt and khaki pants. He carried a red solo cup, that Chloe could only assume was full of beer.

Before any of the three of them could react, this boy had turned and ran cup first into Rachel. The liquid splashed all over both Rachel and the guy.

"Shit!"

"Dammit!"

"Oh," the boy said once he realized who it was. "Sorry, Rachel. I didn't see you there." The boy carried just a small inflection of sincerity in his tone.

"It's whatever, Eliot. Not a lot got on me."

"Good. I can get you towels or…"

"No. I'm fine. Have you seen Max?"

"I think so. She was with Victoria. Who is your friend?" he smiled. He tried to appear to be charming, but Chloe looked past it.

"I'm Chloe."

"I'm Eliot. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

He seemed okay. Just another ordinary guy.

"I don't think I've seen you before. Do you go here?"

"I used too." Out of her peripheral vision, she could see Rachel crossing her arms, obviously irritated.

"We need to go find our friend. I'll talk to you later… Eliot?"

"Oh, uh, sure, sure. Can I, uh, get your number?"

"Oh. Uh, okay."

After an apologetic look, Chloe rescued her phone from her pocket. They exchanged numbers before anything else crazy could happen.

Eliot left without a hassle other than saying bye. Chloe had a feeling he was talking more to her than to Rachel.

Once he walked away, Rachel turned to lead Chloe again. Her mood had changed drastically since Eliot arrived.

"Do you not like him?"

"Not really. And he hates me for no reason. If I had to guess, he probably purposefully spilt that beer on me. Disgusting."

"That sounds pretty dickish. He seemed pretty nice."

"Piece of advice, Price. What someone seems to be, and what someone actually is are two different things."

A quote just occured to Chloe. "Everybody lies."

"Kinda. Like-"

Whatever Rachel was going to say was cut off by a loud shriek. "Cowabunga!"

"Case in point," Rachel smirked.

They had found who they were looking for. Max had climbed to the highest diving board available and cannonballed off. Chloe couldn't help but let a small smile appear on her face. Bizarrely, she wasn't sure what Rachel meant.

She tried to shout Max's name, but the music was far too loud for her to hear them. It felt like it was far too long until her head bobbed to the surface. She adjusted the top of her bikini before slinking off to the side.

"She can't hear you," Rachel stated the obvious.

"C'mon," Chloe called. "Let's go find Max."

"Alright," Rachel shrugged. "I would get a drink, but I have to take you home later."

"Okay," Chloe replied stiffly. It had been years since she could hang out in a social circle like this. She couldn't help but wonder what Max was like in this scenario. Obviously, she had seen the best friend Max that visited her just a few months ago. But she wanted to know how she grew. If Rachel is to be believed, Max is the most popular girl at school. Chloe was curious how this metamorphisis happened. Being popular was nothing like the twee girl she befriended all those years ago.

The two girls rounded the pool side until they hit the "VIP" section of the pool. Once Rachel approached the curtain, she held up a hand. She engaged the girl for a second. Chloe wasn't sure what was said, but she let both pass through.

The VIP section was dimly lit compared to the rest of the party. The lighting seemed almost… sultry.

The first person to greet them was a blonde. The girl seemed somewhat familiar to Chloe. She was just shorter than she would be standing, with short blonde hair, and a fancy sleeveless black shirt, denim mini shorts, and sandals.

"Hey Rachel!" the blonde called. She smiled crazily like she just won the lottery. She turned her head to notice the unrecognizable stranger in front of her. Her eyes fell to the wheelchair and back up to the girl sitting in it. She could tell the girl became confused. Her face ever so slowly turned to one of menace.

Until Rachel put her hand on her shoudler. "This is my friend, Chloe. We're trying to find Max."

Victoria blinked several times. She stared quite intensely at Chloe. She almost felt like she was being put under examination.

"Are you _the_ Chloe Maxine has been telling me about?"

"The one and only," Chloe projected false confidence into her voice. She couldn't help but feel a little proud that she was so important to Max. It should make sense, considering how long they've been best friends. But Max's distance since the day she moved to Seattle always unintentionally gave Chloe doubts. Sometimes, she wondered how much Max truly cared about her.

It was true that since the accident that left her paralyzed, Chloe wanted Max to live her life. She didn't want her to feel tied down emotionally by Chloe. Because, truth be told, Chloe thought she would have been dead by now.

But she'd been given a second chance.

"Oh my god!" Victoria squealed. "I'm so excited to meet you!"

The blonde chugged on her margarita before gushing over to Chloe. Rachel ran to intercept.

"We're gonna have to cut this reunion short, Victoria. We kinda need to see Max."

"W-what?" she stuttered. She was obviously drunk. "Maxine is good. She came in a little pissed off, so Nathan got her high."

"Nathan's here?" Rachel groaned in frustration.

Chloe remembered hearing how Nathan Prescott was apparently obsessed with Max. Also, Rachel had heavily hinted that Max leads him on. This couldn't be good. For the first time in a long time, Chloe was worried about Max.

"Yeah, don't worry about Maxine. Nathan's gonna take care of her."

"The hell he is," Chloe surprised all involved by heading off in the direction she believed Max had gone. In fact, it was the only direction she could have gone. Rachel ran up beside her.

Slightly out of breath, Rachel explained that she managed to distract Victoria, but Chloe wasn't listening. She was too concentrated on wheeling in and around corners. She repeatedly called Max's name, even though that turned up no results.

After another minute of search, Rachel opened the back door to the pool. "C'mon! Maybe they went back to the dorms."

The back entrance took them to the parking lot. Acting quickly, Rachel turned to head to the dorms. Chloe made to follow, but before she could turn her wheel chair, she saw pale skin in her peripheral vision. Sure enough, she could see Max and Nathan at a red truck.

"Rachel!" Chloe called. Her ears still felt like there was gunk stuck in them. It was a relief she was away from that thumping noise. She was worried Rachel wouldn't be able to hear her, but that was ridiculous. Rachel spun back around, curious what Chloe was calling for.

Chloe didn't hesitate. She wheeled towards the parking lot. Rachel followed, hot on her wheels.

They apporached the duo. Nathan had Max leaning backwards into the hood of his truck. The two were heatedly making out. Nathan had shifted. He started to kiss Max's neck while his hands roamed her body.

Chloe felt blood rush to her ears. She felt angry at this guy for taking advantage of her best friend. She could swear she could see Max mouthing _No._

The rage overcame Chloe. She charged at Nathan and ran him over spectacularly.

"What the hell?!" he yelled.

At that moment, as Chloe reversed and Nathan tried to get up, Max rather violently vomited all over Nathan.

Chloe and Rachel couldn't help but groan in disbelief. Nathan stood up immediately, Max's vomit covering his clothes. "Man, fuck you dykes! I'm out of here!" He climbed into his truck, and turned it on. Quickly, he reversed and peeled out of the parking lot.

"Good riddance, Prescock!" Chloe shouted after him.

Meanwhile, Rachel rushed over to Max's side.

Chloe turned her chair back to her friends just in time for Max to stagger a few steps.

"I don't feel so good…"

"No shit." Rachel hooked Max's arm around her shoulders to support the petite girl's weight. "You're out here at 9 o'clock at night in 40 degree weather in mid-January in a bikini. And you're hella drunk. We need to get you back to my place."

"No, no," Max shook her head and swayed slightly. "I have to go to the boys' dorm. I gotta tell him I'm sorry."

Chloe almost wanted to laugh. "Max, you just puked on Nathan and he left. I don't think he's going to accept an apology anytime soon."

Max sent her a drunkingly confused look. "No, no, not him. War-" she burped, "-ren."

"Who?"

Rachel had half-carried their friend back to her car. She sat her down heavily in her backseat.

"Let me go," Max slurred. "I haveta to tell him how I feel."

Rachel put a hand on Chloe's shoulder. "I'm going to find her clothes. Think you can keep her here til I get back?"

"Yeah, I got it," she whispered.

"C'mon, Max. We're going back to Rachel's. You can tell him tomorrow."

"No, no, no," Max slurred. "I have to go _now._ You don't understand, Chloe."

"Yeah, I do, Max. I know what it's like to want to go back to correct a mistake. Trust me when I say right now, this isn't the time."

Even in her drunk state, Chloe saw she was getting through to her. Max blinked at Chloe a couple of times before she sobbed. "I fucked up, Chloe. I fucked up so bad."

"I know." Chloe climbed gingerly into the backseat. She swung her legs inside the car. Max lifted her palms to her eyes and loudly sobbed.

Chloe stiffly out her arm around her best friend's shoulders. Max quietly cried.

Minutes later, Rachel arrived. "Is she asleep?"

"Yep," Chloe sighed.

* * *

It was some time later that Max woke up. She was disoriented, of course. She was very surprised to see Rachel _and_ Chloe taking care of her. After she put on the clothes Rachel provided, Max grabbed a bottle of water from her fridge. She was still buzzed, but she was much better than she was before.

"So how are you two together? I didn't even know you knew each other."

"Well, _Maxine,"_ Chloe emphasized, "we just met today. She's supposed to be babysitting me-"

"Paid friendship."

"Yeah, that too. Come to find out, we have a shared interest in protecting your ass from Nathan Prescott."

Max rolled her eyes as she rehydrated. "Oh, c'mon girls. Nathan isn't so bad."

Rachel shook her head. "No, he's worse. Can't stand him. Though it was funny to see you hurl all over him."

Max cringed. "Did I? I need to apologize to him for that."

"In speaking of apologies," Chloe cut in, "what were talking about earlier? What did you do?"

"Oh," Max sighed. "I supposed I should tell you guys about that…"


	4. Assumptions

**Max:**

"The tiniest bit of blush, and some eyeliner. Subtle. Just enough to let them know I gave an effort, but not enough to make it look like I needed to add too much."

Max had explained to Rachel and Chloe why she was meeting up with this boy in the library of all places. The two girls didn't have a difficult time believing that Max was having a hard time in Chemistry, nor that she needed a tutor. Rachel was surprised to hear she had a thing for a nerd. Chloe was surprised she had a "system" for putting on makeup.

"You never wore makeup when we were kids. Never.

Max cringed. "I had to change Chlo. People don't really like girls who don't wear makeup."

Chloe and Rachel scoffed. "Fuck them."

Max remained silent. Internally, she wished she could have that rebellious attitude, but she just wasn't strong enough to have it. She would never be strong, not like Chloe or Rachel.

"Anyway, I walked over to the library. I had to ask the librarian, Ms. Bryant, where to go. I swear she hates me."

"So, who is this guy?" Rachel asked.

"And why are you so hung up on him?" Chloe added.

"His name is Warren Graham, apparently." Rachel's eyes widened in surprise. Then, she frowned. Chloe didn't seem fazed. She didn't know who Warren was either. "And I don't know, Chloe."

"Why are you frowning Rach?"

"Just of all people," Rachel shook her head, "I didn't expect Graham."

"Is there something wrong with him?" Chloe asked.

"No, nothing," Rachel shrugged. "I worked with him last year in Othello. He was a chill guy, kinda awkward but in a good way. Major nerd though. I thought he had a thing for Brooke, but I guess she only had a thing with him."

"What do you mean?"

"Sometimes, I forget you were new in the fall. During Othello, Brooke asked Warren out. It was pretty public too. He flat out rejected her."

"I wonder why," Max pondered out loud. As far as she remembered, Brooke Scott was pretty, even for a geek. Any straight nerd would jump all over that, wouldn't he? "Is Warren… gay?"

Rachel started to laugh. "Warren? Gay? Holy shit. You really don't pay attention to the unpopulars do you?"

Max tried to fight a blush that crept to her cheeks. "I never had a reason to care about them until now. What's so funny?"

"Graham is dating Stella." Somehow the revelation didn't surprise Max. No wonder why the last few times she saw him she was nearby. She just never guessed they were a couple. They never kissed or held hands or anything most couples did. If anything, they acted how any best friends would act. Conversation, a few laughs here and there, a goodbye.

Rachel stopped laughing long enough to interrogate Max some more. "How could you have possibly not known that? They're practically always together."

"Yeah, but-"

"Hell, I'm pretty sure I've heard Nathan shit talk them before."

"Rachel, listen. I've seen them together, but they never act like a couple. They just acted like they were friends. Like you said, he's friends with Brooke, and I'm sure they act the same way that I saw, and any other friends he has."

"Like Alyssa."

"Jeez, is he friends with all the girls that hate me?"

"Well," Chloe intervened, "except Rachel."

"Jury's still out on that," Rachel sarcastically stated.

Max continued, unamused. "And it's not like he mentioned her or anything."

"That's weird. I mean, it doesn't mean much, but everytime I've seen him, he gushes about her."

"It doesn't have to mean anything," Chloe threw her two cents in. "He could have just been focused on doing his job. You know, teaching Max chemistry?"

"Oh, he could have if he wanted to."

Chloe and Rachel lifted their eyebrows. Max had gotten their attention back to her story. "Do tell," Rachel urged.

"Gladly. I finally found the study room that Ms. Bryant told me to go. I thought I'd arrive early, ya know, because I wanted to seem like I cared about Chemistry."

"Which you don't," Chloe interjected.

"Who's telling this story, Chlo?"

"Yeah," Rachel laughed with a smirk. "Let the girl tell her story."

" _Anyway,_ I had to wait like ten minutes for him to show up. He didn't show up until 6:05."

"Wait," Rachel interrupted.

"What did you just get on me about?" Chloe asked, faux disgruntled.

"This is actually important though," Rachel insisted. "Warren is _always_ punctual. He might not always be early, but he's always on time. It kinda annoyed me to no end during Othello."

"How was that important?" Chloe snickered.

"I'm just saying. Maybe something happened. Maybe he and Stella got in a fight."

Max felt a small flicker of hope alight in her chest. She ignored it.

 _Ding ding._

Rachel and Max looked around the room. Each of them looked for the scource of the noise. Chloe bashfully took out her phone. She typed a quick message and pocketed it.

Rachel sighed heavily. "Is that Eliot?"

"Yes," Chloe answered reluctantly while sliding her phone in her pocket. "It was. I told him I was busy."

Max raised her eyebrows suggestively. "Eliot huh?"

"Don't even start," Chloe warned. "Keep your story going."

Max still smiled suggestively, but she continued.

"Once he got there, he greeted me…"

* * *

Warren opened the door to the study room. His breathing was ever so slightly hitched, a bead of sweat just barely visible on his eyebrow. No one else would have noticed except for her.

"Sorry I'm so late, Maxine."

"It's not a problem, Warren." It actually was a problem, at first. She knew he was five minutes late, because she was just playing a game on her phone when he arrived. The second he arrived, all her irritation washed away.

It felt pleasing to her tongue to say his name.

"Okay," Warren breathed. "Cool. You have your textbook, right?"

"Yeah." She might be failing Chem, but she wasn't an idiot. She took her book out of her bag while he did the same. She noticed he also took a notebook out along with his textbook.

"You have your notes?"

That would explain the notebook. Max thought about lying. Maybe he'd believe that she left it in her dorm, but he probably wouldn't believe her anyway. "No, I don't."

He sighed. Perhaps he thought this assignment would be tougher than he thought. "Alright, that's fine. We'll just use my notes."

"Okay."

He opened his notebook and rifled to the pages of their most recent chapter. "Alright," Warren muttered as he flipped through the textbook. He scooted near her. The pair's arms were almost touching, the fabric of their jeans nearly scraping together. Warren taught her some stuff from the Chem book. Some of it stuck, most of it didn't. Most of what Warren said went through her.

He was patient though. He explained things multiple times. He got a little excited, but not overwelmingly so as he taught. It was cute.

The hardest part was figuring out his notes. After some time, she had to speak up. "What is this… chickenscratch? What do these symbols mean?"

Warren took the notebook from her. "Maxine… That's shorthand. It would take way too long to write every formula and every element, so we shorten it."

"It's Max. Not Maxine."

"I- wait… what?"

"Call me Max. I hate Maxine. It just sounds so… pretentious."

"Yacouldvefooledme," he muttered.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said, 'You could have fooled me.'" He stopped what he was doing and turned to look at her seriously.

"You don't like me much, do you?" she replied softly. Her voice was just barely above a whisper.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" he answered sarcastically.

"I've never done anything to you!"

"Not to me. But what about Kate?" His voice raised, and his cheeks flushed. His pupils had dilated. This study session had not gone the way Max had anticipated.

"I never did anything to her…"

"No, but you and your friends might as well have! The Vortex Club is responsible for that video, and the video made Kate go into that mental hospital!"

"But I never did any of that! If Kate never-"

"Don't say shit about Kate! At least she's real. We were never close, but at least when I talked to her, I knew I was talking to a real person. It's not the same when I talk to you _Max."_

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I hate people like you. Liars. Not only are you the biggest bully of this school, that's not enough for you. All the Vortex Club do the same thing. Hell, most of the people in Blackwell do it, but you're the worst. You live this grand façade to get people to like you! I see right through you, _Max."_

"But-"

"No!" He stood up then. Max recoiled sharply. She felt a little intimidated, which was ridiculous. She hadn't felt intimidated since her first day. Now this skinny nerd was giving her anxiety?

"I don't want to be here just as much as you don't, _Max._ But while I'm saving your shitty ass grades, I need you to understand, _stay out of my life._ Maybe you are the biggest bully in this school, but right now, you need Warren Gayram."

"I do need you, but-"

"I think that's enough for today. I guess we'll meet here again tomorrow."

He turned his back to her. Max wanted to get up and stop him. She wanted to tell him the truth about her. But she couldn't move. She was stuck, because she knew that he was right.

Her eyes looked down at the table. She was downcast, melancholy. She couldn't remember why she was excited about this.

Warren cleared his throat. Slowly, Max lifted her head to gaze blankly at him. His face seemed to contort to one of confliction. He sighed once. "You know, you didn't have to wear make up to impress me."

Then, he left.


	5. Shifting Tides

**Max:**

That night, Max couldn't sleep. She couldn't stop hearing Warren yell at her. Over and over again.

The thing is, he was right. After Max told her story, Rachel just shrugged in indifference. The only thing she noted was Warren's final words.

Max hadn't really paid attention to that final anecdote. She just supposed that Warren was being nice. Although, she couldn't help but hope…

She put the thought aside, and burnt it. There's no way that Warren was interested in a façade like her.

The thing about it, is that he was right. The second she arrived at Blackwell, she faked it. She faked it all.

And she was good at it. She quickly rose up the ranks of Blackwell's popularity hierarchy. At heart, she was still a twee, nerd little photographer who was obsessed with her instant camera.

At a certain point, she knew she had to grow up. She came up with a persona, an act. This cold hearted _bitch_ that didn't take no for an answer. The blunt rolling, borderline alcoholic, party girl. When Maxine Caulfield arrrived, you knew it was the hottest party in Blackwell. It was everything she could have wanted moving back from her hell in Seattle. She had everything she could have wanted.

But some nerd saw through her. He knew her entire attitude, who she was, was an act.

But he didn't know _who_ she was. He knew who she _wasn't._

Needless to say, Max was confused. She could have any guy, or girl, she wanted right now. She just texted Nathan and apologized for vomiting all over him.

He begrudgingly accepted, as only Nathan could. He even invited her to his dorm for some "late night fun" but she declined. She simply just told him that she was going to sleep.

That was probably a lie. She wasn't going to sleep tonight.

* * *

It was a warm day. She could feel the heat on her arms, on her legs, on her neck. She could feel sweat pool into her armpits and on her forehead.

She wore a black and white shirt under a purple blazer, khaki pants and sandals. Stylishly dressed.

In front of her was Warren. He was sitting on the ground, his knees curled up to his chest. Loud sobs escaped his throat.

"Warren…?" she questioned hesitently.

"Get away from me!" he cried.

She stepped closer, despite his insistence.

"It's okay." She felt her voice dip lower into a hopefully more soothing tone. "I'm not going to hurt you…" She tried to kneel down in front of him, but he recoiled away from her.

"No! Don't touch me! Just please don't hurt me!"

Max's hand flinched. She had just begun to reach out for him. An intense feeling of dread washed over her then. She cared for him. She hated seeing him so raw. So hurt. So afraid.

Of her.

"Let me help you," she pleaded.

"Not you," Warren cried. "Anyone but you!"

Max felt herself chew on her lip. She wasn't sure what to do. All she knew is that she had to help him. She reached out again to touch his shoulder.

* * *

She woke up, drenched in sweat.

After taking a second to breathe, she checked the time. It was just 7 in the morning.

She wanted to leave. She didn't want to stay, stuck to Rachel and Chloe like they were her overbearing parents.

She did feel guilty, but maybe they'd understand. Especially Chloe. She could see the judgement on her childhood best friend's face, even if it were unintended. Chloe just didn't know what happened to Max in Seattle. In fact, she was better of not knowing. Max had worked hard to keep the school side of herself, and the Max Chloe knew seperate. But it seems that her worlds were colliding.

She needed a drink and it wasn't even the afternoon.

In the end, she decided to sneak past the two girls and take the early bus back to campus. She felt guilty, yet thankful of the two of them for taking care of her while she was totally wasted. They did so well, that she didn't even have a hangover.

Nevertheless, Max snuck her way past her friends, and out into the cold January morning.

 **Chloe:**

Chloe woke up, her eyes bleary but in a good mood. Rachel was beside her. The girl had convinced them all to share the bed, and Chloe had eventually relented.

Rachel was still asleep, and Chloe smiled, taking in the angelic girl's scent. She didn't how she ever deserved to be here at this moment.

Reaching out, she managed to grab her phone off the floor. Turning it on, she found several texts and missed calls from her parents.

"Shit!" she muttered. She furiously texted her parents back. She was trying to tell them that she was okay, but they still might freak.

"What's going on?" Rachel mumbled. She curled her hand into fists and rubbed her own bleary eyes. Somehow, she was still gorgeous.

"My parents are going total Nazi," Chloe sighed. "They want me to be home. Like, now."

"I'll take you." Rachel swung her legs over the side of her bed. With a yawn, she stood up and stretched. She was still wearing the clothes she wore yesterday, and Chloe couldn't help but catch a glimspe of the slip of skin that revealed itself under her shirt.

Rachel didn't seem to notice, or care. She grabbed her keys off the nightstand.

"I wish I didn't have to go," Chloe admitted. "I know it wasn't what either of us expected, but I had _fun."_

"I had fun too," Rachel smiled. "But, as always, life slaps us back to reality."

"I know, I know. It's just that, I hate that my parents are being so dictatorial. They never used to be."

"You mind if I change?"

Chloe blinked. The tone of the conversation had gone a complete 180 and it surprised her. "Uh, sure."

"Cool. I'll still talk to you, just turn around."

"Gotcha." Chloe stuck her palms into the bed and maneuvered herself into a 180 on the bed. She was stuck staring at photos of Rachel and her family. A window beside the photos gave her an imperfect view of Rachel. She hesitated for a second, before peaking at the reflection.

"Do you always undress in front of your guests?" Chloe laughed.

"Just the special ones," Rachel replied cheerily. A view of her bare buttocks right bewildered her. She swallowed a lump in her throat.

After a few seconds and some wiggling, Rachel finally got herself into some fresh clothes. "You know, you should try to view the situation from your parents point of view. They thought their only daughter was going to be paralyzed for the rest of her life. Suddenly, she's able to walk again and she's galavanting with strangers? Kinda worrisome, Price."

"Galavanting?" Chloe asked playfully.

"I can use big words," Rachel protested. "If you want, I can talk to your parentals. I can explain everything."

"You don't have to do that."

"I pretty much have to. It was my idea."

"I'm the one that said yes," Chloe refused. "I will talk to them."

"But you want me to talk to them, don't you?"

Chloe hesitated. She'd seen firsthand how pursuasive Rachel could be. Although Chloe could also be persuasive, it had the habit of getting on people's bad side. For Rachel, it seemed she could charm anyone into doing what she liked.

Perhaps noticing her hesitation, Rachel added. "How about I cut you a deal?" Her lips curled into a smirk.

"A deal?" Chloe's eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Yep! I'll talk to your folks-"

"If?"

"If you dye your hair."

"My hair?" Chloe asked, equal part amused, part astonished.

"Yep! Like I said, I think you'd look cute in blue."

* * *

She took the deal.

And she was right, Rachel is very charming. Once they arrived, Joyce and William attempted to lay into the girls. Rachel soothingly told them half-truth. That she and Chloe went to a party, but only to help Max. Once they found her, they went back to Rachel's. They had so much fun, they forgot to take Chloe home.

"It's like we completely forgot her limitations, Mr. and Mrs. Price."

Chloe was listening from the other room, but she could even sense the shift in dynamic once this sentence was spoken. The tension seemed to almost disappear from the room, and therefore, released from Chloe entirely. A few minutes later, she could hear Rachel mention that she, "had to use the girl's room."

As she passed Chloe's room, she stopped, and fed her a wink.

 **Max:**

Max spent the next several hours in a sleepless, pacing daze. She took a shower and all that, got ready for the day. Fixed her rat's nest for hair. She didn't do makeup this time.

She ignored texts from Nathan. She spoke to Victoria briefly and declined getting high (Vic was _very_ worried).

She considered texting or calling Chloe or Rachel, but she didn't. Max was afraid of what they might say. Rachel thought his outburst was to protect himself. Chloe thought he truly hated her.

Both were plausible theories, she supposed. But it didn't explain his final comment. Why would he say something like that? Was he pitying her? Did he think she was being ridiculous?

Did he like her?

The possibilites were endless, and it bothered Max to no end.

She got ready for the day, but she didn't know what to wear. For the first time since moving back to Arcadia Bay, she had nothing to do on Saturday night. Nothing that is, except study. With a cute boy that hates her.

It took her longer than she would have liked to find an outfit. Finally, after hearing Warren's rant over and over like a record stuck on repeat, she found an outfit. She wore a pink Jane Doe t shirt, jeans, black shoes, and a grey hoodie against the cold. Not very stylish, but deep inside, it was Max. She hadn't worn an outfit like this since Seattle. Strangely though, it felt comfortable. Like taking a deep breath after you've lost your air.

After making sure the hallways were empty, Max snuck her way through the girl's dorms and into the library. Sighing from the tension, she breezed her way into the Study Room.

Warren was late. Again. This time, he was only a minute late, as opposed to a few minutes. Go figure.

"Ready to start?" He spoke diligently. His cheeks were the slightest tinge of pink. Nervousness? The cold?

"Yeah," Max replied dryly. She cleared her throat and set her equipment on the table.

The two carried on with the study. If Warren noticed Max's clothing, Max never knew. She tried to actually focus on the chemistry that Warren was teaching. It seemed she was managing to actually learn a couple things from him.

She wasn't suddenly the Good Will Hunting of science, but she was getting it. Warren was a very good tutor. A smile lit his facial features when she got something right, but even when she was wrong, he was patient and understanding.

"You just have to mix the-" His lecture was cut off when he dropped his pencil. Immediately, he and Max simeltaneously bent to retrieve the utensil, causing their heads to collide with a _bump._

"Ouch!"

"Ow!"

Both teenagers raised their heads mutually. Both teens also rubbed on their respective craniams to soothe the ache. Warren looked at Max in slight terror, but became confusion when Max's face was breaking out into a cheeky grin.

"Sorry," Max chuckled genuinely. "That was my fault! I should've said something."

Warren's face flickered for the briefest of moments, before sliding into an amused expression. "You? I'm the klutz who dropped his pencil."

"Let's just agree to disagree, Warren."

Warren opened his mouth. Maybe he was going to say something, but he must have decided against it.

"What's your deal?" he asked plainly. He didn't seem to accuse her of anything. He asked as if he was causally asking for the weather.

"My deal?" Max replied, genuinely confused.

"I mean…" Warren sighed. "I know I crossed a line. I said things I regret yesterday. I'm sorry."

Max was taken aback. He was apologizing? After all the things he said. She thought he hated her. "Uh, apology accepted. You didn't say anything that was wrong."

Her reaction must have surprised him. He blinked several times. He seemed to think for a second before contunuing. "Why don't, uh, we start over? Pretend yesterday didn't happen?"

"Yeah," Max felt color come to her face. "We can."

"Good. I have to go. Do you, uh, want my number?"

"Sure," Max allowed a small smile.

The two exchanged numbers. Warren grabbed his stuff and shoved it in his backpack. He bumbled his way out of the chair and towards the door.

"I'll, uh, see you later, Warren," Max called.

Warren smiled. "Bye, Max."


	6. Ready to Fall

**Max:**

Max spent a majority of her time the next day chilling with Victoria. She had sort of missed spending time with her bestie, even if said time was weed smoking and gossiping.

It was simple, something that Max was overjoyed to partake in. The last few days had been so peculiar that she had to find some way to slow it all down.

She did not want to think of Warren Graham, and his horrible inconsistency. One night he told her off (and rightfully so), the next night he was apologetic and… shy?

She couldn't figure him out.

She had another nightmare the night before. She dreamt it was storming. Rain pounded her skin, and lightning flashed overhead.

She felt her neck crane upwards. On the roof, stood with her arms spread, was Kate.

Max could only stare, horrified. Kate stood on the edge, ready to fall. Max felt as if her feet were coated in cement. She was stuck to the ground, unable to move, to break free. Kate closed her eyes tight against the roaring wind, and she fell.

It was infrequent nightmare that plagued her since October. She felt guilty everyday because deep down, she knew she put her on that roof. She planted the seeds that almost killed her.

"You ever think about Kate?"

"Not really." Victoria was trying to blow smoke rings. At the moment, she was unsuccessful. After one last futile attempt, Vic set the blunt down. "I mean, there's not much to think about."

"I guess," Max smoothed out her white pants. Her palms were sweaty, and it was getting on her nerves. "Do you feel guilty about it? I mean. She almost killed herself."

"I know, Maxine." Vic sighed. She grabbed the Gatorade and vodka. Max had insisted they drink, just so she could take her mind of everything. Vic offered to mix the drinks, which Max was more than happy to let her.

It occured to her that maybe she was becoming an alcoholic. She didn't drink Friday. Maybe she should slow down.

After tonight. She wasn't planning on drinking heavily. Just a mixed drink to chill her anxiety.

"I did feel guilty," Vic admitted. "But I'm past it. After we sent that card, I still felt terrible, but after a month I moved on. I mean, now whenever I talk to the losers in this school, I think about her. How close we were to losing her and shit, but I don't feel as bad as I did."

"I guess." Max wasn't satisfied with Victoria's answer. She supposed she had a point, there was nothing else to do but move on. Yet everyday since, guilt has nawed at Max. She had been to the edge before. She stood on that rooftop in her dream, but she knew better than to fall.

* * *

" _Go ahead," Max urged. "She deserves it. She's such a fucking hypocrite."_

" _You're right, girl! Saying all that shit about abstaining from sex. 'Why don't you wait til marriage?'" Victoria mocked._

" _Then she kisses all those guys at the party? I'm so glad you recorded it."_

" _Aren't you proud of me? I even put it on YouTube, AND the school forum. Anonymously of course."_

" _That's so evil," Max giggled. "I love it. Share it with all of the Vortex Club. It's time she gets what she deserves."_

* * *

Max felt sick to her stomach, thinking back on that Monday. And it wasn't from the alcohol. Maybe if she could have _known_ how bad Kate was hurting. How much she was hurting her. Maybe she could have helped her before she went to drastic measures.

But that's what they all say, isn't it? The signs were all there. Hell, they were visible on her arms, if Max even cared to look close enough.

"I'm going to her room."

"Why?" Victoria took a swig and cringed. "You won't find anything useful."

"I'm just… in a mood. Okay? Nothing feels right."

Victoria gave her a look of concern. It was strange to see her looking out for her and not the other way around.

"Are you okay, Maxine? You haven't been right since you started getting tutored by Gayram."

Max paused briefly. "Please don't call him that."

"Why?" Vic chuckled. "You don't have _feelings_ for him now?" she asked teasingly.

"No," Max answered carefully. "But, he's not that bad.I'm actually learning a lot."

Vic laughed. "Are you actually liking Chemistry now?"

"No," Max protested with a smile. "I don't know. He just makes it simple."

"I see," Vic answered. "I heard about you yakking on Nathan."

"It was unintentional. Apparently, we were going at it hot and heavy, until he went too far? At least that's what I heard. I apologized, and then… well, you know him."

Max stood. She felt some of the alcohol rush to her head, but she was used to it by now. "I am going to her room. You coming?"

"Nah," Vic shrugged. "I'm goooood. You should really pay more attention to Nathan. He really likes you."

"I know he does Vic," Max replied. Vic was starting to get stupid drunk. When she got this way, she would laugh at everything, and insist that Nathan was the right one for her. It got annoying, and more than once, Max wondered if Vic just wanted to be in _her_ shoes.

"I'll be back."

Vic saluted her with her mix drink.

After adjusting her sweater, Max made her way down the hall. Kate's wall was still taped up, in hopes that she would return. If the rumors were true, then she was coming back next week.

She paused at the room slate. The last thing Kate wrote before her suicide attempt.

 _Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest._

Max wasn't sure where this quote came from, whether it was from biblical scripture or something else, but it seemed rather appropos. She herself could use a rest.

The door creaked open slowly after Max pushed it in. Once inside, she was struck by an overbearing feeling of loneliness and isolation. She hadn't felt this hopeless since her days in Seattle.

The room was bare. Her family had taken most of her personal belongings after Kate was admitted to the mental hospital.

Still, Max realized this was how she lived. For that two week span, Kate must've truly been severly depressed. It was revelation. She knew she wasn't wholeheartedly responsible, but she played her part. She was a bully. She was a torturer. She was a hypocrite. She was a reason.

And she hated herself for it.

* * *

 **Max:**

Unsurprising to most, Max was distracted by her phone. But unlike most times, she wanted to pay attention to the lesson.

Mr. Jefferson's photography class has always been her favorite. She found it easy to be brought in by his charm and his expertise, but today he couldn't capture her attention. Her focus was swayed by the texts she recieved the day before.

Warren: _Hey, I won't be able study tonight. Something came up._

Me: _Are you okay?_

Warren: _Just a personal issue. Nothing to worry about._

She was worried. She didn't know Warren that well, but she did know that would never miss one of their sessions, not unless something major happened.

She was worried about him.

"Maxine."

Max flinched upon hearing her name. She looked up to see Mr. Jefferson regarding her with an indignant look.

"I know whatever is on your phone is so important Maxine, but when you're in my class, photography comes first."

"I know, Mr. Jefferson," Max sighed. "I'm sorry."

"I'll let this one slide, Maxine. Only because you're my rising star.

Alright, class. Now remember, I told all of you we were going to start a project this week."

There was a collective groan from the class. Max yawned instead. She had another dream with Kate on the rooftop. Instead, this time, from down on the ground, she saw a clone of herself pull Kate off of the rooftop.

She hadn't had the chance to think about that bizarre twist to her reacurring dream, and she wouldn't have the chance now.

"I know, I know. Boo, projects. But this one is pretty simple. In fact, that's the theme. Simplicity. I want you each to capture moments of simplicity. Whether it be nature, or people, or something else, I want the beauty of simplicity. This project will be due by next week. Please, do not procrastinate."

After his little speech, class was dismissed. Max gathered her things to leave. Vic stood by the door, waiting. As Max approached her friend, Mr. Jefferson called after her.

"Maxine. Stay for a few minutes. I need to talk to you."

Fighting an urge to sigh, Max answered, "Alright, Mr. Jefferson."

"I'll see you later," Vic said. "Text me. Okay?"

"Yeah," Max nodded. Once Victoria left, Max turned to talk to her teacher.

He looked good, as usual. He wore a white shirt under a blue blazer, with matching blue pants and dark shoes. His glasses passed him off as five years younger than he actually was. A pencil placed on his ear completed the look.

"Yes, Mr. Jefferson?"

"Maxine-"

"It's Max," she cut in.

Mr. Jefferson raised a curious eyebrow. "In the months you've been my student, you've never once told me to call you something different."

Max considered for a moment. In the end, she shrugged. "I guess I feel that a change is necessary."

Mr. Jefferson made a noise in the back of his throat. "I see. Well, on the subject of change, Ms. Grant has warned me of your… less than stellar performances in her class."

"Yeah, she talked to me. Warren is tutoring me to get my grade up."

Max could see something flicker on Mr. Jefferson's face for just a moment. At least, she thought she saw something. That moment passed faster than a NASCAR.

"Good. I'd hate to see my brightest star hindered by her grades. I want you to be focused on this project. Do you have any ideas?"

"Not yet. I will be focused. I promise."

"I hope so. And next time… Max… pay less attention to the phone, and more attention to the class. You never know when… inspiration will strike."

"I understand. Can I go now? It's lunchtime, and I'm pretty hungry."

"Of course." Mr. Jefferson waved off the conversation as if it were nothing. "I was just checking up on you. Go on. I'll see you tomorrow."

After she nodded and shouldered her bag, she turned to the door. "Bye, Mr. Jefferson."

She opened the door and let it shut behind her. She thought about returning to her locker, but dismissed it. She wasn't lying when she said she was hungry. She didn't have breakfast because she was rushing to her first class after that bizarre dream.

"Simplicity, huh?" she muttered. How was she supposed to photograph simplicity? H-

Her thoughts were shattered when someone ran past and bumped her shoulder.

"Hey!" Max protested.

The unknown girl in question didn't seem to hear her. She just kept running down the hall. In fact, everyone was running down the hall.

"What the hell?" Max mumbled to herself.

She observed the now crowded hallway slowly. Now that she was paying more attention to her surroundings, she could hear the students jeer excitedly, _"Fight! Fight! Fight!"_

Obviously, two idiotic souls must've been sparring in the middle of the freaking hallway. Now she was curious. She shoved through people with her elbows. Most of the crowd, even through their bloodthirst, could tell that the most popular girl in school was trying to get passed them. She easily slipped by the mass of students and towards the epicenter. As she got closer, she could just barely make out the pugilistic people.

One of the idiots fighting didn't surprise her. Logan Robertson was always looking for a fight. The boy across from him was not someone she ever expected.

It was Warren.

And he wasn't doing very well, perhaps unsurprisingly.

"What did you say, you faggot?" Logan slapped Warren with an open hand across the face.

"I didn't say anything!" Warren protested.

Max shoved her way through the crowd at a quicker rate. How many students went to this stupid school?

"I heard you say something, Gayram! Grow some balls and say it to my face!" At this point, Logan had picked up the seemingly miniscule Warren by the collar. He aggressively slammed the nerd into a nearby locker. It was like a grizzly bear wrestling an otter.

Max was now close enough to see Warren's face pale, but harden. Max suddenly got a sick feeling in her stomach.

 _Please don't do something stupid._

"I said," Warren swallowed. "I said you were a dumbass."

 _And you did something stupid,_ Mad thought in despair.

Logan grunted in rage. He heaved Warren off the lockers and slammed him into the metal once again. He curled his big, burly hands into fists and whopped them into Warren's abdomen. Once, twice, three times.

" _Ooooh!"_ groaned the crowd.

As Warren coughed and spluttered, Logan cocked another fist. Max knew in the back of her mind that this blow would descend on his face.

Finally, with some effort, Max squeezed her little body past the last few students trapping her in the crowd.

"Enough!" she called.

Logan stopped immediately. She could tell that he could recognize her voice.

"Stay out of this Maxine," he growled.

Max stepped forward towards the violent scene. She softly put her hand on the star running back's shoulder. "He's had enough."

That much was true. Warren's head had sagged. His eyes were closed and his breathing was haggard. Perhaps she was just imagining it, but a small trickle of blood oozed from Warren's slightly open mouth.

"Hmph," Logan grunted. He almost resembled a big bull. "He's always been a pussy."

Logan unceremoniously dropped the poor boy. Warren dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

The crowd, sensing the fight had ended, started to disperse. Most of them grumbling that, "it wasn't even worth it." Max elected to ignore them.

"You should get out of here before someone comes."

Logan, perhaps sensing what she was implying, nodded. "Yeah. I'll see you later."

"See ya." Max watched him walk away. When Logan sauntered a good distance away, Max rushed to Warren's side. The photographer kneeled beside her downed friend.

"Warren?"

The boy was now sitting on his rear end. His arms covered his ribs and his knees were pulled up and over his hands. Max reached out a hand, compassion overcoming her.

When Max's hand touched the boy's shoulder, he flinched. Immediately after, he winced.

"Hey, Warren," Max whispered soothingly. "It's Max."

"It's hard to hear you over the ringing in my ears," Warren wheezed.

"Uh," Max licked her lips. They had suddenly become dry. "It's Max," she tried again, this time louder. "Are you okay?"

"No," Warren grunted. "I'm definitely not okay."

"We should get you back in your dorm."

Warren didn't say anything back. Max could only guess that he wasn't able to. Gingerly, Max put his arm up and over her shoulder. Warren grunted, but otherwise didn't complain as she half-carried him out of the main building and into the cold, January afternoon.

She wasn't even thinking now. She was running on auto-pilot. Something about seeing him hurt, broken, lit a fire inside of her. She was so impossibly angry at Logan for hurting him that she could barely see straight when she talked him down. It was a miracle that she was able to keep her voice even.

She could barely think on the way out of the main building. She was overcome with rage and worry that she didn't even realize they were at the door to her dorm until she nearly ran into it.

She blinked a couple of times before turning the knob. Warren didn't complain about the change of scenery. In fact, he didn't talk much at all on the way, he opened his mouth only to breathe and spit blood on the snow covered pavement.

Max led the boy to her bed, where she gently tried to lay him down. Warren's only protest came in the form of grunts and moans of agony.

Max stood for a moment. She gave Warren a once over with her eyes. His clothes were now wrinkled, and his shirt partially stained from the blood in his mouth. His cheek was swollen and red from the slap, and his left eye was puffy.

"I'm going to get you some ice," Max said stiffly. She turned quickly to the door. Just when she turned the knob to leave, Warren's fluid coated voice stopped her.

"Max?"

She turned to face him. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Despite the situation, Max smiled. "I'll be back."

Max shut the door behind her and leaned against the wood. She took a long, well-deserved breath.

"Shit," she mumbled.

She lied when she said she had to get ice. The ice was in her mini fridge in her dorm room. She actually needed a second to process what the hell was happening.

Max hardly knew him. She only knew the smallest things about him. And yet, she could no longer hide that she _cared_ about him. At least to some degree.

The sight of seeing him so… broken… was so unbearable. It was like one of those commercials about animal shelters, only ten times worse. She almost wanted to cry.

But she had to push through. Like it or not, he needed her right now.

Why did she care so much? And why was he such an idiot?

Max pushed off the door and made her way outside. It felt colder now than it was just a minute or so ago, but Max ignored the feeling. She shoved her hands in the snow. She collected the biggest heap she could and made her way inside. Quickly, she scrambled down the hallway and passed the curious looks of onlookers and into her room. Shutting the door with her foot to (hopefully) ensure privacy, she approached the nerd.

He laid stiffly on her bed. He was obviously uncomfortable, and Max knew he was about to be more so.

"Lift up your shirt."

"What?" his voice still sounded a little thick with moisture. "Why?"

"And you're supposed to be the genius," Max retorted sacrastically, but with no bite. "Just do it. Up past your stomach."

"Okay." Warren hesitated, but did as he was told.

Max could already see bruising beginning to line the poor boy's stomach. She swallowed a feeling of hot anger. "This will sting," she warned.

She gently dropped a small patch of snow on the injury. Warren hissed, as she knew he would, but after a few seconds his breathing slowed.

"Better?" she asked delicately.

"Much," he grunted.

"Good. Now your face."

Warren didn't argue. Max lifted her leg up and over his waist. For the smallest of moments, she straddled his waist. Very suddenly, and very quickly, her mind went south. But just as quickly, she maneuvered her other leg over and kneeled on the other side of him. He turned his head accordingly, and Max stuck a handful of snow to his face and held it there.

He hissed once again, but his breathing slowed just as before.

Max looked down at his features. Even bruised, he was still handsome. She wasn't sure if their faces were ever this close, but she didn't mind it. She could definitely see what Stella saw in him. Where the hell was she anyway?

"Sorry if I'm getting your bed all wet," Warren attempted to smile.

"I'm not worried about that." Max felt the corners of her mouth raise just enough. "Just relax, okay?"

"Okay." Warren laid his head back and sighed. The snow was already starting to melt on his stomach and face. Max observed him tenderly, trying to notice any more discomfort.

"Thank you, by the way. You didn't have to do what you did."

"Somebody had to," Max deflected.

"Nobody had to," Warren insisted. "But I never would've expected _you_ to take care of me."

"What can I say?" Max shrugged. "I'm full of surprises."

Warren peered at her with his one good eye. "Clearly. I like your room."

"Oh," Max took a second to look around her room. It wasn't anything special, because she didn't spend a lot of time here. Her bed was pushed by the wall, her computer and her books were shoved into the corner. Lisa, her plant took up the opposite corner. Her plasma screen TV (a gift from Nathan) stood opposite of the two.

"Thanks."

"You're a Dr. Who fan?" Warren chuckled good naturedly. He had seen the tiny replica TARDIS on her desk. Max shifted her gaze from him to the TARDIS.

"Yeah. I've always had a thing for time travel."

"Me too."

Max wasn't sure what to say to that. The snow had melted. After pausing for a moment, she climbed over him again and walked over to her fridge. She pulled out some ice.

Warren observed her with an amused expression, but he didn't say anything, which she was grateful for.

She climbed over him again and applied her ice. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," he admitted. "You're good at this. This caregiving thing."

Max smiled. She couldn't help it. She took a breath to relax her face. "I just know something about bruises."

Warren opened her mouth, perhaps to ask what she meant, but he was interrupted by knocking at Max's door. Both teens started, like they were caught doing something scandalous. Once she recovered, Max called out, "come in."

The door creaked open. Stella Hill stood just outside of the door frame. She peered at the two teens. "What's going on here?"

Both Max and Warren hesitated. Warren's skin despite the melting ice, now felt hot on her fingers. Max was the first to say something. "Warren got in a fight."

"I heard," Stella answered. She talked slowly. "I was at a student council meeting when I heard two idiots got in a fight. Come to find out one of those idiots is my boyfriend."

Max could tell the words 'my boyfriend' was directed more at her than at Warren. With a groan, Warren sat up slowly. Max wanted to push him back down, tell him he was only going to hurt himself, but she bit her tounge.

"Max stopped Logan. She only wanted to help."

"I'm aware she stopped him. That's why I'm here." Stella eyed Max. She didn't sense any jealousy in the look, but she did sense the slightest hint of malace. "I'm sure that's what she had in mind. I'll take care of him from here. You go back to… doing whatever it is you do."

Max narrowed her eyes just slightly at the girl. She wanted to say something cutting, but knowing how much Warren cared for her, she decided to take the high road. "Yeah. Okay."

She helped Warren to his feet. Warren seemed to walk a little slower than before, before coming to a stop in front of Stella. His girlfriend took him by the arm. "Thanks."

She didn't sound very thankful. "You're welcome," Max replied.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of him."

"I'm sure you will."

Stella took Warren by the arm. The two started walking down the hallway.

"Bye, Max," Warren called.

Through the lump in her throat, and ignoring the desperate feeling of wanting him come back, Max called out in return. "Bye, Warren."

She shut the door behind them, feeling more alone than ever before.


	7. Split

**Chloe:**

It had been a few days since she'd last seen her friends. It had been so long, it all seemed like a dream. The party, the sleepover.

The deal.

She had spent the last few days with her parents, just like old times. She did her exercises, she watched more TV. She did anything she could to pass the time.

She thought about bringing up that she knew why they were so insistent on her learning how to navigate fluently with her wheel chair. She thought about starting that fight. But she didn't have the heart. Her parents were just doing what they thought was best for her,

She sighed. She missed Rachel, but she hadn't heard from her since that day. Chloe was starting to think that Rachel thought she was nothing more than a means to make money, despite how well she treated her just a few days ago.

She was antsy. She passed the time watching movies and drawing on… everything. Her arms, her walls, everything she could. But it wasn't enough. She was going stir crazy.

She was so lost in thought, she didn't hear the shuffling outside her window. She didn't even notice until she heard the rap of knuckles against glass.

Chloe jumped as high as she physically could from her bed. She about faced to stare wide eyed at her window. On the other side, Rachel smirked. Rachel motioned for Chloe to open the window, and Chloe bashfully responded with a nod.

She managed to move herself out of bed and wheeled herself to her window. She opened it and let her friend in. Thank God her parents decided to switch her room last year.

"What's up?" Rachel asked nonchalantly as she climbed in through Chloe's window. Chloe couldn't help but feel a little envious. She wished she could pull off the action with such ease.

"You know you could've texted… or called."

"Nah," Rachel shrugged. "It wouldn't be spontaneous then. Do you not want me to come over?"

"No," Chloe help up her hands in surrender. "It's not that. You just surprised me is all."

Rachel just smirked in reply. The blonde leaned casually against her door frame. The two girls regarded each other for a moment or two. "So," Rachel began while pushing herself off the wall. "Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?"

"Have you already forgotten?" Rachel quipped. Chloe had just realized she neglected to observe her friend had her hands behind her back. When she brought them around, Chloe could see a tube. A blue tube.

"We're dying my hair today?" Chloe's eyes widened.

"Yep!" Rachel stepped closer to Chloe. She stepped close enough that the brunette could see every detail of Rachel's irises. "Unless you're chicken…"

"I'm not chicken!" Chloe defended. Despite her protests, she felt her face resemble that of a rose.

"Chloe's a chicken!" Rachel laughed. She pulled her hands together to perform the world famous "chicken dance". The girl ridiculously sqwuaked and danced.

"You're a child!" Chloe protested. She couldn't help but to laugh at Rachel's comedic dancing. It was exactly what she needed.

Rachel laughed and laughed. After some time, she finally wound down.

"So," she held up the container and gave it a small shake. "You ready?"

"I guess," Chloe replied nervously.

Rachel raised a single eyebrow. "Are you scared?"

"Maybe a little," Chloe admitted. "I mean, I've secretly always wanted to dye my hair. Especially blue, it's my favorite color and all, but I don't know."

Rachel nodded. "I understand. But think of it this way, Price: you got in this horrible accident right? And it left you almost completely paralyzed. Your legs start working again, right?"

"Yeah…"

"This is your opportunity to live a little, Price! Stick a hella big ol' fat middle finger in the air and say, "Fuck you, life!"

Rachel's face slowly started to resemble that of a tomato. Chloe sat in awe of Rachel's unparalleled passion. She couldn't help but feel a little inspired.

"Besides," Rachel quipped. "You accepted the deal."

Chloe help up her hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. Let's get it over with. Just don't call me a chicken again."

Rachel smirked, "I solemnly swear in all that is rebellious. Now wheel your happy ass to the bathroom."

Chloe rolled her eyes, but she did as she was told. "Have you ever done this before?"

"Once or twice in Cali. I haven't dyed my hair since Freshmen year though. I've never done it for someone else, but it shouldn't be too hard."

Chloe and Rachel examined the brunette in the mirror. Chloe could then feel Rachel gently grab at a loose bit of hair and run her fingers through it. "Your hair is so pretty."

"Jealous?"

"A little. I'm not sure if I have enough dye for all of this though."

"Then cut it."

Rachel hesitated. In the reflection, Chloe could see her frown. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Chloe chuckled. "It wouldn't be the first time I've worn my hair short."

"Okay," Rachel replied slowly. "I'm not a hair dresser or anything. Don't expect it to look amazing."

"I trust you," Chloe smiled.

Grabbing some scissors, Rachel sighed. "And that should worry you."

Chloe wondered if she were joking.

* * *

 **Warren:**

Warren sat crisscrossed on his bed, his laptop in his lap. He subconsciously ran a hand through his hair and grabbed a drink of water. He tabbed out of his AP Lit paper and sighed. He hated English papers.

He switched over to his comics. Fortunately, his paper would only be due in a week, and the new Dr. Strange came out. Steven just traveled back in time to save the one he loves from a disaster. A magician? Time travel? Multiple timelines? Sign Warren up.

As the screen loaded up his new comic, he paused to look at his reflection.

His face was still swollen from the fight yesterday. He had absolutely no idea what he was thinking, repeating what he said to that ape.

Stella did end up taking him to her dorm. Indeed, she did take care of him. She didn't talk much at all while she iced his face, and watched over his tender ribs. In fact, he sort of missed Max's care. Sure, some her methods were "unorthodox" to say the least, but her touch was compassionate. He hadn't experienced any caring warmth like that in forever.

It's not like Stella didn't care for him. Their relationship was based on intellect and achievement rather than feeling or mutual need. Yes, they still were a couple in all the ways one could expect. They still enjoyed each other's company. Warren could make Stella laugh from time to time.

The small sound of his door clicking open alerted him of a new presense. Coincidentally enough, it was his girlfriend.

"Hey," she called lightly.

"Hey," he greeted. His comic had finally loaded. He started to allow his eyes to slowly work over the imagery depicting his long awaited story.

He could feel Stella sit beside him. Since October, Warren has always let Stella wonder in his room and out whenever he liked. He trusted her more than almost anyone. She was always straightforward, no nonsense. She could be a little meticulous, but with the choas that went on in his mind, he liked her conscientious.

Warren's mind was always clustered, that much was for certain. Yes, he had skipped two grades to be the level he was at. His father considered him as something of a prodigy. Yet, his mind resembled that of a circus, rather than the neatness of a filing cabinet.

He was also terrible at metaphors.

The point is, Warren was about as organized as a three-year old child afflicted with ADHD and on a massive suger rush. It seemed the only times he could focus his mind is when he worked on a project of some kind. Stella was a necessary component to keep his life running smoothly. Before her, his life was a mess. His sleep schedule was non-existent. His appetite only occasionally satisfied. His schematics, his clothes, everything thrown here and there. How he managed to live all that time in his dorm, and by himself was a miracle by the gods.

Even now, as he was reading his comics, he couldn't help but wonder how exactly time travel could work in a hypothetical, fundamental way. Forget about magic, that's just a lazy excuse to make the story go faster. No. What if he could design a device to go back in time? Warren had always wanted to be an inventor.

Maybe the user could hold up a hand? Reverse the flow of time. It should only go back a few minutes. Maybe to avoid making a mistake. Warren knew going too far back in time could have terrible consequences. The last thing he needed was to cause World War 3 or some other tremendous disaster.

Still, the concept of time travel would be interesting. He definitely knew one thing he would change…

"How's your face?"

Warren blinked. Once, twice, again. He realized he had completely zoned out and scrolled two extra pages of his comic. He swallowed, disappointed in himself for doing it again.

"Warren," Stella sighed. Upon hearing his name, the boy tore his gaze from his computer screen to his girlfriend's face. He knew she was there, but he was too lost in thought to answer her the first time. Stella was all too wary of this. She understood by now that he had heard her.

"It's fine. The swelling has gone down."

He's always been like this. Ever since he was a little boy. His mother had always hated it. It was one of her reasons. His father, on the other hand, saw it as a sign of his intellect. Whether that was the truth or not, Warren didn't know.

Warren had always been a friendly person. Truthfully, he liked people. The problem is: in the real world, not a whole lot of them are interesting. It was hard for them to capture his attention for longer a few moments at a time. Sure, Ms. Grant or whoever could hold onto his attention for some time, but that was when there was a lesson to be learned. When there was something to be discovered. Outside of this, and other adrenaline inducing moments, (like that neanderthal, Logan) rarely could anyone hold his attention in a casual conversation for very long.

"What's the deal with you and Maxine?"

That's right, Max. For some reason, Maxine Caulfield had become a strange outlier. From the first day he tutored the Stoner Queen, his mind became razor sharp. He found she could hold his attention better than anyone he had ever met. It was the most fascinating thing he had ever experienced.

And it was more than that too. Like yesterday. When she carried him back to her dorm, all he could think about was her. The smell of her. The feeling of her skin on his. The sight of her smiling face as she took care of him. The way she softly hummed as she applied the snow or ice to his face. She may not have known she did it, but he did.

She had a unique ability with him. He had to admit. There was more to Max Caulfield than he thought he knew. She was fascinating.

"I tutor her as a favor for Ms. Grant. No more, no less."

"I see. But don't you think it's strange that Maxine, of all people, helped _you._ "

Warren blinked. He supposed from her perspective, it did seem odd. Hell, it was peculiar, even to him.

Warren had not expected anyone to help him during that altercation. Stella was in a student council meeting, and all the teachers were either getting lunch or locked themselves in their rooms. Warren was stuck knowing he was going to take an all too familiar pounding.

And yet, an unlikely savior had stepped up to the plate. The truth is, Warren had always seen Max as a chameleon. Before the first study session, he had never spoken to her.

But he remembered the first day of the fall semester. He was sitting with Brooke at the picnic table. He saw this curiously pale girl, walk across the square. Her face was almost angelic in its angles. The freckles that danced across her nose. It wasn't until later that he could see the dazzling bluish-grey of her eyes.

He would have never imagined this girl, with her striped sweater under a purple blazer, khaki pants, and a retro insta-camera, could somehow rise to the ranks in becoming the most popular girl at Blackwell Acadamy. It was almost stunning in its speed. He recalls her easily avoiding the verbal jabs from the popular boys and girl, and providing brutal verbal lariets of her own. He remembers her tactics. The way she could easily get under your skin.

As he shifted through his memories after that second study session, he remembered something odd about her bullying. She had never attacked someone first, at least, when he heard her. He remembered once when she was walking from her homeroom. He was reluctantly tailing behind her, just trying to get to his next class, when she accidentally bumped into Alyssa. Warren had stopped and tried to get around the girls, but the hallway was so crowded, he couldn't break through.

Max had actually attempted to apologize, but, Alyssa had unwisely called her a "stuck up bitch."

Max had retaliated with a sharp jab. She called her, "Marilyn Manson's mistake." Alyssa was left dumbfounded, and Warren was left in disbelief. He had to comfort her later that day.

The only difference in her NO, was Kate. But even then Warren remembered, her abstinence campaign. Warren never believed it was a big deal. Just Kate preaching her beliefs.

To the Vortex Club, it was a big deal. Especially, when that video was released. Warren was right to blame Max for that, it was her doing as well, but he understood why they were angry, even if he didn't agree at all with the reason. He deduced they must have believed that she was being a hypocrite. But it was so unlike Kate, he couldn't imagine that being her.

Yes, he had watched the video. Twice, in fact. Brooke and Stella were all over the rumor mill when it happened. All it left him was disgusted, yet intrigued. That video did not show the Kate he came to know.

He hated Maxine Caulfield. That couldn't be denied. But as the last few days played out, as she showed she could be caring, even to him. His thoughts on her had changed.

Indeed, she was full of surprises.

"I don't think so," he answered honestly. "Max isn't that bad."

Stella glared at him with a strange look. If Warren was talking to someone else, he would swear she wore a look of suspicion. "I see. You did ask _Max_ to find me right? Or you just let her take you to her dorm room, alone, without a complaint?"

What was she implying? Did she not realize he was with her and with her only? Did she not realize that Max was only doing what she thought was best?

"It was hard for me to speak much with the blood in my mouth. She took care of me until you were done with student council, then she released me to you without a conflict. Isn't that enough?"

It was the truth, about as much as Warren could tell her without hurting her. The truth was, the thought of Stella never crossed his mind. He felt relaxed and nurtured by Max, that contacting Stella didn't even occur to him.

Stella was even a little worse. Max distracted him from the pain. Even the brief conversation they had felt comforting. Stella took care of his wounds, but she wasn't the best at comfort. It was like dealing with a mute school nurse versus dealing with a full fledged doctor.

But Warren doubted that saying he preferred Max's care over Stella's would go over well.

"It is," Stella sighed. "I just don't trust her."

"You have no reason too," Warren shrugged. "I only have to study with her until Sunday. Then she's off to pass or fail to her discretion."

Hopefully, that would end the conversation. He did not want to know what would happen if it escalated. Warren returned back to his comic. Dr. Strange had just saw his loved one for the first time after a long period of mourning.

"Can I borrow money?"

Warren sighed. This wasn't the first time Stella asked such a question. She worked at a job at the mall, but she also came from a very poor family. She always paid him back, but it was always obnoxious.

"What for?"

"My parents need help on bills. Just $20?"

"Fine." At least it wasn't as much this time.

Stella nodded and brought out her laptop. The rest of the night was spent discussing theories and formulas. Movies and pop culture. Yet, Warren had a feeling there was something he was missing.


	8. Chemistry

**Max:**

Today was the last study session. Max had dressed in a casual black t shirt under a grey hoodie, black yoga pants, and boots for the snow. She thought she looked cute.

That didn't really matter. What matters was: she wasn't sure if she would see Warren again. She liked spending time with him. She liked making him laugh and even sharing little "geek" moments with him. The day before, he managed to pry out the information that Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within was her favorite movie, which totally destroyed her "cool credit". She fully outed herself as a nerd. Warren had made fun of her choice, and he even jokingly added he would watch it with her.

Which made her want to burst into a happy dance.

She headed out of the girl's dorm and into the cold night. She wasn't too bothered by the cold, she'd only be outside momentarily. She even thought to stop for the briefest moment to grab some snow. Snow had become sort of an inside joke to them now.

She decided against it, knowing that he wouldn't appreciate it if she were late, even if for a joke.

She walked up the steps and into the dormitory. She passed several students, but she didn't worry. Most of the Vortex Club boys knew she was only here to study with Warren, and even then, she didn't care what they thought.

She saw Logan, who nodded. Max had talked to yesterday, telling him to back off. He was reluctant, but when she mentioned that she wanted to keep Warren as alive as possible while he taught her, the burly running back just chuckled and agreed to lay off the "wimp."

It was a relief. Max had to fight herself not to chew the ape out.

She knocked on Warren's door and he welcomed her inside. He looked good, with a plain white t shirt, and jeans, with Star Wars socks. He smelled ever so slightly like aftershave, which unbelievably was a nice smell to her nostrils.

"Hey," he welcomed.

"Hey, yourself," she smiled.

He opened the door wide, and she stepped through graciously. She strolled over to his bed, slid off her jacket, and flopped down. He chuckled before imitating her. They laughed as they layed down, side by side. Their hair splayed out all over the bed, the locks entangling themselves with each other. Max tilted her head to the left, while Warren tilted his to the right.

The two teens stared at each other, matching smiles covering each unable to contain their sudden joy in seeing each other. Warren reached out and gently moved a loose hair covering her eye. He softly brushed the folicle behind her ear, and Max leaned into his touch.

 _Kiss him._

The thought surprised her. Her eyes widened ever so slightly, and she sat up, bile rising to her mouth.

It wasn't that the thought of kissing him freaked her out, it was the fact that she almost _did_ _it._

She wasn't going to be that girl, and she never wanted to be. She had been on the other side of that, and she refused to be her.

Warren sat up too. He rubbed the back of his neck. She looked over to him, but he didn't meet her gaze. If she wagered to guess, she would hypothesize that he felt guilty too. She learned that word from him.

Max cleared her throat. "We should get started."

"Yeah." Warren leaned over and grabbed his materials. He gazed back at her and forced a reassuring smile. A smile that she returned.

They went to work. Both of them, she could tell, were trying to ignore the awkwardness that just settled between them. After a few minutes, they settled back in their comfortable routine.

Max's chemistry knowledge had increased drastically. She answered every question right, without hesitation. Warren became impressed with her knowledge, but he seemed distracted. It took him longer and longer to find a new question.

There was also the fact that Warren just didn't seem very excited. Yesterday, he was overjoyed by her progress. His enthusiasm was always infectious, to the point she was starting to believe herself she was a master of the subject.

Even Vic said something. When the two of them chilled the night before, Vic asked her _"Why are you smiling so much?"_

Max had spun some lie about a new clothing line she was excited for. Vic was too blazed to see through the half-assed lie. Max never got overly excited about clothes.

"Is something wrong?" Max asked softly. She reached over and touched his arm, ever so lightly.

Warren blinked once, perhaps considering. "Why do you ask?"

"You just don't seem as… enthusiastic today. Not like usual. Is something on your mind?"

Warren hesitated for a moment. "You really care more than you let on, don't you?"

"I care about all my friends."

That caused Warren to beam at her. Butterflies fluttered in Max's stomach.

"It's not a big deal, really," he deflected.

"It's a big deal to me," she pleaded. "You can tell me anything."

"Okay." Warren took a deep breath. "It's really nothing. But I'm getting annoyed by Stella borrowing money all the time. I've been trying to think of ways to confront her about it, without it turning into an argument, but I can't figure it out."

Max thought of yesterday. She saw Frank come into the dorm. Ordinarily, Frank hated to give "house calls" but she and Vic had offered to pay rather handsomely (though mostly Vic). She recalled Frank gruffly muttering that he had two more stops (Max assumed he meant Nathan and maybe Hayden). When Max had returned from the bathroom just moments after, she spied Frank exiting Stella's room. She didn't even think, she took her phone out and snapped a picture. She wasn't sure why, she just found it odd.

She wondered then, if that was the true reason for Stella borrowing money. Stella had been a user for sometime, and she had infrequently seen the girl at Frank's RV. Max was keenly aware of Stella being employed, only because she remembered Vic making fun of her for working at a pretzel place. Max had a distinct feeling that the pretzel place only paid minimum wage.

The final nail in the coffin for her decision was a memory of their first meeting. Although he apologized later, she knew that Warren hated liars, and lying. Maybe even to an unhealthy amount.

Not for the last time, she wondered what caused him to lash out to that degree.

She didn't want to know, but he deserved to know what she saw.

"Can I tell you something?"

Warren cocked a curious eyebrow. "That was random. But okay. What do you have to tell me?"

"Late last night, I was chilling with Vic when she called our dealer, Frank to bring us weed."

Warren didn't say anything, but nodded for her to continue.

"He doesn't usually come to the dorms, but he did last night. He mentioned he had to stop off to drop off to two other people. I saw him deal to Stella."

Warren narrowed his eyes. "Stella doesn't smoke."

Max shook her head. "I swear to God I'm not lying. She's smoked ever since I started going here. I thought you knew. You never cared when I told you I smoked."

"No," Warren's voice broke. "No, I didn't know. She… she's been lying to me all this time?"

Max bit her lip. She was not expecting this. Why had Stella kept it a secret all this time? There wasn't shame in smoking. Nearly everyone did it.

"Warren, you have to trust me. Here." She took out her phone and scrolled to the image. Warren leaned over her shoulder. At first, she didn't think it would be enough to convince him. But then she saw what he saw, Stella's room number.

"Shit," he whispered.

She expected him to be angry. She didn't expect what happened next. She watched him slink up to the wall, his knees curled up to his chest.

She wasn't sure what to do, but she wanted to comfort him. It'd been a long time since she'd been in a position like this. She was used to taking care of herself, healing physical wounds. Not emotional ones.

Not broken hearts.

Max did the only thing she could think of. She softly wrapped her arms around him and nuzzled her head onto his shoulder. She held him there, until he relaxed. He wrapped an around her and pulled her close.

He was warm, Max noticed. He smelled even better this close, almost like strawberries. She felt his head lightly rest on hers.

Her butterflies were going insane.

They spent some time in that position. Warren even laid down. Max laid her head on his chest, one arm over his stomach. Warren held a cautious arm over her shoulders, his eyes directed at the ceiling.

"Hey Max?"

"Yeah?"

"The other day when you took care of me…"

"Yeah?" she asked hesitently.

"I just wanted to thank you."

Max lifted her head off of his chest. She turned her head to face him, her chin lightly resting right on his sternum. "You already thanked me," she smiled.

"I know. I just wanted to ask: why me?"

Max frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

Warren was quiet for a moment. "It's just, we know so little about each other. I've never seen you stick up for anyone, and you did for me."

Max felt her face heat up in the moment. She did not know what to say, and she didn't know how he would react.

In the end, she decided to be honest. His brown eyes were digging into hers now, looking for an answer. "I wasn't thinking," she said slowly. Her voice was thick. "I saw you getting hurt, and I got so angry. I wanted to scream at Logan. Then, I don't know. I just wanted to take care of you, I guess. Make sure you wouldn't get hurt again."

The words came tumbling out of her like a tire rolling down a hill. She felt embarrassed for the first time in a long time. She tore her eyes away from his face and removed her head from his chest. She sat up on his bed.

Warren followed suit. The two teens sat, side by side on his bed. Neither of them felt brave enough to look at each other. Max stared into the floor. She stared so intensely, it was a miracle a hole wasn't being burnt into the carpet.

Max swallowed the developing lump in her throat. "I-" She paused to clear her throat.

"You don't have to say it," Warren whispered. "I think I already knew."

"Was I that obvious?" Max replied in the same tone.

"A little," Warren let loose a dry chuckle. "That subtle little make up that first night? Made it a little too clear what you had in mind."

"I suppose I could've reconsidered."

This time Warren smiled. Max could see it in her peripheral vision. She wanted his lips so badly.

"You want to know what's weird, Max?"

The sound of her name on his lips sent a shiver down Max's spine. How ironic was it? The most popular girl in school, chasing after a nerd? She could have anyone she wanted. Boy, girl, it didn't matter. Most students at the school would love for a chance alone with Maxine Caulfield, but not Warren. In just a week, he had become more than any person had ever become in her life.

It almost scared her.

"What's weird?"

"I've barely known you a week, yet I feel like you're the only one I can trust."

"I know what you mean-"

"I don't think you do," Warren cut her off. He wasn't doing it to piss her off, Max could tell. There was something in his voice. Something that wanted to be understood. Max removed her stare from the floor and returned it to Warren.

"Sorry," he apologized. "It's just… I grew up, feeling like I was less than a person. My dad is a college Physics professor, my mom was an artist. Two people who never should have worked. A scientist, someone who studies to understand logic, and an artist, someone who strives for creativity. They dated very briefly, but one night they had too much to drink and well…

Insert me. They both raised me, but it was mostly my dad. He didn't see me as his son, he saw me as a prodigy. He wants to raise me to be the next Nobel Peace Prize winner, succeed him, find the cure for cancer and all that bullshit. My mom never wanted me. She wanted to travel the world, get her works into the Lourve, all that shit."

He was getting passionate now. Max had seen flickers of it before, during their studies. Max wasn't sure what to do, but she placed a hand on his. She wrapped her forefinger and middle finger over his. He obliged.

"Mom would come to visit every now and then. She was fun, sure, but she was always annoyed with me. My head is too spacey, Max. My mind can barely concentrate on one thing for too long. It's even worse in conversations with most people. I tune out easily. My attention wanders.

Dad could stand it, because it was " the makings of a genius". Mom couldn't. She hated it. She wanted me to be her "piece de la resistánce!".

"I'm sorry, Warren." Max tried to inject every ounce of sympathy she could into the one sentence.

Warren sighed, but he wasn't done. "That's part of the reason I blew up on you the first night. I mean, part of it was with good reason."

"Alright," Max teased. "Don't push it."

Warren smirked. "I know. Anyway, Mom promised she was going to go on one last trip, then she was going to try to work it out with Dad. I had hope, for once.

Remember that day I told you I couldn't make it?"

"Yeah," Max answered. "Since we're being honest: I got in trouble in Mr. Jefferson's trying to figure out if you were okay. I was too chickenshit to text you to see if you were alright."

"Good to see I scare you. The Queen."

"Shut up," she smacked his arm playfully while he laughed.

"You're so different, Max."

He was still smiling. Max returned the grin, but she wasn't sure what he meant.

"It's like," Warren elaborated. "When I talk to you, everything feels sharp. I'm focused, you know? It's like this moment of clarity."

Max blushed before shyly looking away. She didn't know that she had so much effect on him. Was it possible that he liked her the same way? This wasn't what she expected for their last tutoring session, but she didn't mind the slightest.

Still, she didn't like feeling this flustered. She decided to shift the conversation back to him. Partly because of the embarrassment, partly because she was curious.

"Why weren't you able to make it?"

Warren grimaced, his features grew dark. "My mom died."

"Shit," Max whispered. She gingerly placed a (hopefully) soothing hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. What happened?"

"My, uh." Now it was Warren's turn to clear his throat. "My mom always had a phobia of flying. So when she traveled, she'd go by boat. It'd take her much longer to come home. I guess one day, there was a massive storm. All the crew and passengers except for a dozen died. My mom was not one of them."

"I'm so sorry." Max got close and wrapped an arm around him. Warren didn't say anything, but the taller boy did rest his head on her shoulder.

After a few moments, Warren spoke. His voice was thick, betraying his sorrow. "I haven't cried or anything. It's just strange to think she's gone."

Max didn't say anything. She elected instead to quietly stroke his hair, let him know she was listening.

"Stella was supposed to go with me to the funeral. Now, I'm not so sure…"

"I'll go with you," Max replied.

"You don't have to." Warren broke up their embrace. He scanned her face, perhaps searching for signs of deception, or something else.

"I will. You need someone. Someone who doesn't lie to you."

Was she angry at Stella for lying to him all this time? Yes. She never would've imagined Stella would manipulate Warren like she did, but knowing that she had done so all this time infuriated her. She wanted to be better than her for Warren.

She also just hated to see him this upset. She wanted to be there for him, even if it was just as a friend.

Warren's face grew pink, but he didn't turn away. "Thank you, Max. You don't know how much this means to me."

Max scooted closer. They were so close that there arms were touching. She gazed sideways at him. He looked so good in his casual outfit. She had never felt this way before.

She had had boyfriends and girlfriends. One was absolutely terrible, the rest were attractive at best. Warren, was something else. The second she saw him, noticed him, he drew her in. He is a diamond in the rough.

She wanted him. She wanted him the second she saw him. Max had buried that emotion, because she was afraid of what would happen if she gave in to it.

Max shifted her position. She sat sideways, completely facing him. He stared into her eyes. His warm brown eyes sent shivers down her spine.

Her peripheral vision watched his hand slowly make its way up to the back of her neck. She leaned into the touch, and allowed herself to be brought in.

They were inches away. Their noses on the verge of touching.

Just before she could close her eyes, she saw through her peripheral vison, the doorknob turning. Reacting quickly, she shoved Warren and bent to pick up the Chem book.

Warren who had forcefully been shoved back onto the bed, dropped his jaw in hurt. It wasn't until he heard the door swing open that realization dawned on his face.

Stella rushed into the room, a dark look of suspicion on her face. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Studying," Max bit back with the open book held firmly in her lap. "What else does it look like?" she added sarcastically.

"Why are you here?" Stella interrogated. "You two always go to the library."

"I asked her to come." Warren had now stood and his expression had hardened. "Max, could you leave? I need to talk to Stella."

She wasn't going to deny it. It was hot how assertive he suddenly had become. She unwittingly bit her lip and stood. "Sure." She sat the book down on the bed and walked past Stella to the door. She put a hand on Warren's shoulder for a fleeting moment. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Warren just nodded, his face a hardened mass of concentration. Max could feel daggers bore into her back as she shut the door behind her. Just seconds after leaving, she could hear the intense voices on the other side. Max snuck her phone out of her pocket and sent the photo of Stella to Warren just in case.

She then left, her body ever so subtly shaking.


	9. Paper Wings

**I had to up the rating of the story to M. Sorry! But I feel as if a trigger warning is necessary.**

 **Chloe:**

It took a day or two for her parents to adjust to her new hair. They weren't mad, but they definitely were surprised. None were as surprised as William.

He almost cried, which was a little sweet, but mostly sappy. He couldn't believe his "little girl was growing up."

"Dad, I'm nineteen."

They all shared a laugh at that.

Yet again, Chloe was lonely. She knew that at any point, she could call her mom or her dad in. They would be happy to keep her company. But it just wasn't the same. They weren't Rachel.

As soon as she had the thought, her phone chimed. Chloe smirked. She should've guessed. Rachel has a knack for catching her at the most unexpected moments.

Bringing her phone around, she glanced at the text. Turns out, it wasn't from Rachel, it was from that boy she met at the party, Eliot.

He was okay. Truth be told, Eliot had texted her the day after. She hadn't paid much attention to him. On a whim, she had decided to text him.

They got to talking, and just as Chloe thought when she initially met him, he was alright. He seemed almost… confidentally nervous. At first instance, it seemed like he came off a little cocky, but he would second guess himself. It was amusing. Almost like watching a little kid act older than he really was.

Chloe viewed him as sort of a puppy. He was cute, but in a non-threatening way.

She texted him back. He wanted to know what she was doing. She replied with a casual "chillin. U?"

Just seconds later, her phone went off, displaying yet another message. "Nice. Pretty much doing the same."

"Cool." She had just typed the first word when the door creaked open, alterting her of a new presense.

"Hey, Chloe," her father popped in with a smile. "Your mother and I are going out of town for about an hour. Do you want to come?"

"Not really," Chloe sighed. She did want to go somewhere, but not with them. No offense to her parents, but she spent day in and day out with them. A girl could use a break from her parents.

"Mm," William crossed his arms thoughtfully. "Well, Rachel said she was dealing with a personal issue today. She said she might be available later. But we have to go soon. I'm sure you'll be fine here on your own. Right?"

"I'll be fine on my own," she assured.

"Mm," William sighed. "Alright. I'll ask Rachel if she can stop by to check on you when she's not busy. Call us if there is an emergency, okay?"

"Okay," Chloe nodded. She didn't want to be alone, but she wanted her parents to have a life. She didn't want them to be tied down by her the rest of their lives.

Although, she was going to be even more lonely.

Within a few minutes, her parents had left. They still had reservations about her staying alone. But again, Chloe promised she would be fine. She could handle herself.

The only thing she couldn't handle was how empty the house had become. She had gotten used to listening to the noises of her parents moving to and fro around the house, and the absense of the comforting music of her parents hit her harder than she expected. She wheeled herself back to bed and layed down.

She opened her phone. Maybe Max wasn't busy. Max had changed since Seattle, that's for sure, but she was still her best friend. She knew Max had been busy as of late, with classes and tutoring with her obsession. But she remembered Max telling Chloe that her last study session had been two days ago. Perhaps she wasn't busy.

Maybe she could ask her what happened to Rachel's family.

She texted Max. Within seconds, Max was calling her. She didn't even hesitate to answer.

"Hey Chlo. Sorry I can't come over. I'm getting ready for a funeral.

 _Holy shit,_ Chloe thought. "Who died?"

"No one we know. Warren's mom died. He asked me to go with him."

"Shit. Isn't his girlfriend going to be pissed?"

"They broke up the day before."

"Max…" she accused. "What did you do?"

"Nothing I swear! Turns out, she was lying to him the whole time. She'd borrow his money to buy weed!"

"What a bitch!" Despite the conversation, Chloe smiled. She missed talking to her best friend every day. It was almost like old times. Except she could walk then.

"I know! I mean, I feel terrible for Warren. He lost his mom, _and_ Stella broke his heart."

"That's gotta suck."

"Yeah…" Max lingered a little too long on the thought. Chloe wondered just exactly what Max was thinking about. "Anyway, I'm sorry I can't come over. What about Rachel?"

"Rachel is busy with her family or something. I dunno. She never answers me."

"Yeah, Rachel's kind of an enigma."

"Do you know what's going on?" Chloe couldn't hide the hope in her voice.

"No." Max's answer hurt Chloe's heart.

"Sorry, Chlo. I've been wrapped up in my own dilemmas. Besides, I'm not as close to Rachel as you. I'm sure whenever she's free, she'll let you know. She likes you."

Chloe blushed, but altogether she was filled with a sense of hope. "You sure?"

It's like she could hear Max's smile through the phone. "I'm positive."

Chloe grinned uncontrollably. There was a pause. Chloe tried to think of a way to continue the conversation.

"He's here," Max's voice came over the speaker. "Sorry, Chloe. I'll come over after the funeral. Promise."

"Sure," she replied stiffly. Max hung up, and Chloe was left to her own devices. At least, until her phone vibrated just a second later.

Another text from Eliot. _Man, I'm so bored._

It was bait. It was so obvious, a four year old could sense it. At this point, Chloe wasn't above the bait. In fact, she welcomed it. Something new, for once.

 _Well, you could come over._

She hit send.

 **Max:**

As she talked to Chloe, she put on a black dress. It was simple and respectful, yet elegant, but not too presumptuous. It was the perfect outfit for the funeral. She would look good for Warren too, which probably shouldn't be a concern, but she couldn't help her intrusive wants.

"I'm positive," she affirmed to Chloe. It was almost cute how oblivious she was to her feelings. Max could easily see that Chloe was crushing _hard_ for Rachel. To be honest, she wasn't sure if Rachel felt the same. She couldn't help but to lift her best friend's spirits. Even if she had to tell a little white lie.

As she combed her hair in the mirror, she felt as ready as she could be. She felt nervous, because she honestly did want to help him heal. She worried that she wouldn't be able to do that.

He wanted her to come. She had to remember that.

A knock on the door reminded her that, yes, she was going to an _actual_ funeral. For an _actual_ dead person. She promised Chloe she would come over after the funeral, then hung up.

"Come in," she called.

It wasn't Warren. Instead, it was Nathan. "Hey, Max."

"Oh," Max stopped and stared, her hands frozen in place. She was just about to put a necklace on. To say she was surprised by Nathan's appearence was an understatement. The two of them haven't talked since the party. Well, she did apologize briefly, but they haven't hung out since.

He looked good, like usual. He wore a white t shirt under a red jacket, jeans and black shoes. He had his hair slicked back. He liked to do that every now and then.

"Hey, Nate. What's up?" she asked nonchalantely. For some peculiar reason, his presence weirded her out. Maybe it was because it was so sudden.

"Not much," Nathan answered. He stepped through the door and inside her room. He'd been here before, yet still he peered around, as if he were memorizing the details. After a second, he glanced at her with a rueful eye. "You look nice. You gotta date or something?" He shut the door behind him, virtually trapping them both. She tried not to think like that.

Briefly, the thought of lying seemed appealing. Like she had told Victoria numerous times, she liked Nathan, she really did, but she wasn't _into_ him. He was handsome, sure, but he wasn't her type. In fact, there were times he could creep her out.

Drunk Max didn't agree apparently. There were numerous instances apparently where she got a little too loaded and got freaky with Nathan.

Fortunately, they haven't had sex. Max liked Nathan, but she was afraid of disappointing him if he got too attached.

"Not exactly," she answered, finally deciding on a half-truth.

"Oh," Nathan nodded. He wore an expression Max couldn't read. "Cool. Hey, I came by because I was hoping we could talk. You haven't been answering your phone recently.

"I've been busy," she shrugged. "You know how it is."

"So, I've heard," he gruffed. "Warren Fucking Gayram. At least you're done being tutored by that pussy."

"What is everyone's problem with him anyway?" Max demanded. What was wrong with everyone? Warren isn't bad at all. In fact, he's a sweetheart. Sure, he could be insistent, even overbearing, but he is pure. He's better than most people she knows.

Nathan cocked an eyebrow at her outrage. He seemed almost amused, like he was dealing with a cute puppy rather than a frustrated girl. "Don't tell me you actually like him, Maxine?"

"Maybe I do!" she huffed. She spread her arms exaggeratingly to emphasize her point. "He's not that bad. Just give him a chance."

Nathan snorted. "You know, I thought Stella had balls when she started spreading that rumor that Warren only broke up with her because he was cheating on her. Is she right?"

"No," Max rolled her eyes. She was well aware of the rumor. Fortunately, Max had more power on the social hierarchy. She was able to spin the truth. Warren broke up with Stella bevause she was lying, manipulative bitch.

Well, Max's truth anyway.

She pushed away thoughts of Warren and their almost kissing and focused on the conversation at hand. "What I've told the Vortex Club is the truth."

Nathan shrugged. "I told her he was going to find out eventually. And as far as Gayram, someone has to be the black sheep around here. He's been easy pickings since freshmen year. It's what happens when you think you're God's Gift by moving up a grade or two."

Max didn't like hearing the the intensity in his voice. "I don't want to talk about this. Just do me a favor and have the Vortex Club lay off him. He's already saved my scholarship."

"Fine." Nathan took a step closer before pulling a blunt out of his pocket, pre rolled. He offered it to Max, who took it gratefully. She could use some to calm her nerves. Nathan's arrival had only increased them.

"Thanks," she breathed. She took her lighter out and lit up. She breathed out slowly, savoring the release.

"Don't mention it. I had something else to talk about besides Gayram."

Max gave him the stink eye.

"Graham," he corrected.

"Well, what is it?" she handed the blunt back to Nathan, who lit it up for himself. He took a long drag before breathing out his own smoke. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath. Max always liked him better when he smoked.

"I wanted to talk to you about-"

He was interrupted by knocking on her door. Max knew exactly who it was. Checking her phone, she realized he was precisely on time.

"Come in," she called.

Sure enough, Warren opened the door. Max's first thought, was that he looked impossibly handsome. He wore a black suit, a black tie, and a red undershirt. His hair was neatly combed down.

He's hotter than any nerd has a right to be.

But his face was stone. His typically expressive face showed no signs of emotion.

Max lightly shoved past Nathan. She hurridly put on the doe necklace. "I'm ready."

"Okay," Warren replied.

"Graham," Nathan greeted with a nod.

Max looked from Nathan to Warren. Internally, she was frightened that an altercation was going to break out. Warren looked from Max to Nathan to the blunt in Nathan's fingers and nodded almost imperceptibly to himself in understanding.

"Prescott," he nonchalantely greeted back.

"He was just leaving," Max explained. She gave a pointed look at Nathan, but Nathan didn't see it. Instead, he became completely focused on Warren. "Mom's funeral today?"

"Yep," Warren nodded to Max's shock. "Max is going with me."

"I figured out that much," Nathan grunted. "Good luck. Sorry about your loss, again."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Now he turned to look at Max. "We'll talk later. I gotta go get some shit from Frank. You kids have fun."

Nathan left without another word. Max stood there in complete confusion.

Warren seemed to have noticed her confusion. "His dad was close to my mom. She has her paintings at his art gallery."

"Ah." Nathan's dad would be one of the first to hear about Warren's mother's death. Of course, Sean would tell Nathan. It made since now.

"We need to go now," Warren insisted. "My dad is waiting."

Max could do nothing else but follow.

* * *

Sometime later, she sat next to Warren at a funeral parlor. Elsewhere in the room sat Natalie Barrett's closest friends and associates. Daniel Graham sat opposite of Warren, on the boy's left.

Meeting Mr. Graham was awkward to say the least. He was a tall, gaunt man. In fact, he was so thin Max was almost worried for him. He shared Warren's skin tone, hair (although close cropped) and eyes. He wore glasses, and a serious demenour. Max was almost intimidated by him.

But he wasn't the biggest reason why she felt so off. Truth be told, Max had been lucky all her life. Nobody she was close to had died, at least not yet.

Max felt relieved that there wasn't a body. Although she would feel guilty saying it out loud, but the sight of a corpse would, in all likelihood, make her sick. No, it was better off for her sake that there wasn't a body.

Still, as the priest rambled on, Max thought of the best strategy to comfort Warren. He had already gone up, and said a few words on his mother's behalf. But Max could see that he didn't have much to say. Let alone anything real positive about his departed mother.

In fact, her colleagues had more to say. Mostly it ranged to adjectives like, "eccentric" and "ahead of her time". Max was starting to get the impression that Natalie's character wasn't the strongest. But at least her art was.

Nevertheless, Max wasn't sure what to do. She could tell Warren wasn't at his best. She had seen him at his best, and now, at his worst. When he was at his best, he was quite simply the best person she knew. He was kind, thoughtful, funny, sweet and so many other things. Sure, he was a little awkward. But when he was at his best, it was like he soared.

When he was at his worst, it was like he crashed and burned. He was quiet, almost pensive. You could see the pain on his face, and in his eyes.

That was her favorite thing about Warren, and even something she admired about Chloe too, was how expressive they were. They could betray the simplest emotion with their body language.

It was almost like they flew on paper wings. When they flew, they soared. They could fly halfway around the world. Unfortunately, as always, gravity had to pull them down. And when it did, they crashed hard. They could fly again, but they needed the right push.

And there, as the white walls of the church surrounded them. As they were locked inside with a multitude of family and unfamiliar faces, Max gently took Warren by the hand. She squeezed his digits and ran a thumb over his. She had to let him know now, that no matter what happened next, she would be there for him.

Once the minister had finished his eulogy, everyone gathered around to talk. The empty coffin sat, as if mocking them.

Warren let go of her hand to approach the casket. Max watched him, not wanting to interrupt his moment. It was such a simple moment.

Then she remembered her project. This was beauty in simplicity. She felt bad about exploiting Warren, but it matched all of Jefferson's parameters.

She wasn't proud of it. But she knew from the countless times her teacher drilled it into her head: _always take the shot._

 **Chloe:**

It took Eliot some time to find where she lived. She gave him the address and he ran it through his GPS. He even got lost at one point.

It was long enough for her to almost regret her decision. She was letting a stranger into her home. But, in the end, she decided it would be fine. Her parents had let Rachel into their home, and at the time, she was just as much a stranger to her, as Eliot was now.

She wheeled herself over to the door. He would be here at any second. Sure enough, he texted her he had arrived.

Chloe opened the door to Eliot. He greeted her excitedly as he glanced around her house. He wore a simple red t shirt, jeans, and sandals.

"This is a nice place."

"Thanks," Chloe quipped. "I tried to decorate. Just for you."

Eliot just laughed, but didn't offer a snarky reply. How boring.

"You have anything in mind?" he asked.

"No," she shrugged. "We can watch a movie though. I have a shit ton of them."

She wheeled herself to her room. Eliot walked behind her, examining her house. Chloe didn't mind, it was a nice place. At least she thought so.

"Whoa!" Eliot cried. "You have a ton of movies!"

"I've watched them all at least five times."

Eliot laughed while Chloe scratched her arm. He started the movie, and chilled. He looked like he didn't have anywhere to sit, so she lent him space on her bed.

He laid down next to her, and they watched the movie. It was a comedy, and although she had seen the movie multiple times, she still laughed at some of the jokes.

Hanging out with Eliot was relaxing. He made some jokes at the expense of the actors or the ridiculous plot, and Chloe was amused. It wasn't exactly who she wanted to hang out with, but she was fine with this.

About halfway through the picture, Eliot shifted just a little closer. The two's arms and legs were touching. She was aware of it, but okay with it.

"Where are your parents?" he asked mildly.

Chloe blinked for a second. "Oh, they're out of town."

"Oh," Eliot nodded. "Cool."

"Yep."

They watched some more of the movie. After ten more minutes of screentime, Eliot turned onto his hip. Chloe watched him and his intense look. "So how did it happen? If you don't mind me asking."

Chloe just shrugged, unpreterbed. "Car accident. I was quadriplegic. Now I'm just paraplegic."

"Wow, some miracle."

"You're telling me. I might actually have a life now."

"Sorry if I'm being weird. But I can't imagine not being able to feel my legs."

"Yeah, it sucks, dude."

Eliot softly touched the jeans hiding her knee. "So you can't feel that?"

"Even if I could feel my legs, Eliot, I still wouldn't be able to feel how lightly you touched my leg."

Eliot just snickered. "But you can feel like, up here right?"

He placed his hand on her stomach. "Duh." She rolled her eyes at his stupidity. "I can feel everything from the waist up, dude."

"Cool. So, hypothetically speaking, if I were to kiss you, you would feel it?"

"Uh, yeah. I suppose so." Now she wasn't sure where this conversation was going.

"Cool," he mumbled.

Then, suddenly, his lips were on hers. He kissed her roughly, and, caught by surprise, she opened her mouth. His tongue invaded her mouth, leaving her incapable of speaking. Instead, she moaned, unable to truly voice her surprise.

That was the wrong move. Eliot took initiative by climbing on top of her, straddling her waist. She moved her arms, frantically trying to break free out from under him.

He grabbed her arms savagely. His body weight had pinned her to the bed. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck.

"What are you doing, Eliot?" she demanded.

He didn't answer. Instead, one of his hands roughtly shoved it's way up her shirt, his strong hand moving fast to her bra.

"Stop!"

She wished she could do something. She wished she could move her legs, slide out from under him.

Escape.

With her free arm, she attempted to shove him off her. But she couldn't budge the broad shouldered boy. She could feel him under her shirt. Now, under her bra. She couldn't do anything to stop him.

"Shh," Eliot rose up. He freed his hand up from under her shirt. With one hand, he held both of her arms over her head. He put his other hand over her mouth.

"It'll be over soon."


	10. Pieces

**Max:**

The funeral seemed like it lasted forever. Max stood around, watching Warren talk to his father and other known associates of his mother. He avoided questions about Max, leaving her to make small talk.

The questions they'd ask were usually about their relationship. Max's curiosity peaked everytime this was brought up. One thing Max learned quickly, was that artists had no sense of privacy. Even she got tired of them asking about her.

Unfortunately, these artists are vultures. They sensed every hesitation in Warren's answers, and they interrogated them even harder. Max eventually had enough. She told them they were only friends, and that seemed to satisfy them.

She likes Warren, but he could be a pushover.

After about an hour, Warren's dad approached them both. He hugged Warren rather stiffly and offered Max an awkward handshake.

"I'm glad you two could come," Daniel Graham offered in a hushed tone.

"Me too, Dad."

"Wouldn't miss it," Max added. She internally cringed after hearing her own choice of words.

Daniel didn't seem to mind. He said a few more words to Warren before leaving. Warren led Max outside into the setting sun. It was cold outside, and Max shivered in her dress. Warren shed his suit jacket and put it over there. Max couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face.

The two of them scrambled to his car. Warren started the engine and turned the heat on.

Then, they just sat there. Warren made no move to go anywhere. Max turned to him from her seat, concern plain as day on her face. "Are you okay, Warren?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said a little too quickly. He seemed to think something over for a second. "Do you have anything else to do today?"

Max frowned. She remembered promising Chloe she would come over after the funeral. She just wondered why he wanted to know. "Yeah, I promised a good friend of mine I'd visit her after the funeral."

"Would she mind if I came too? I promise I won't be a nuisance."

Max was surprised. Not just by his question, but by the vulnuerability in his tone. Although, it shouldn't have surprised her. The boy just lost his damn mother for Pete's sake. He didn't want to be alone. Deep down, she understood that.

"You're never a nuisance, Warren," she reassured. "Let me just text her so she's not surprised. You know where South Washington is?

"Yeah, I know where that is."

"Cool." She dug her phone out of her purse. She had put her phone on silent during the funeral service. She had five missed calls and a text, all from Chloe.

"Step on it, Warren."

 **Chloe:**

She tried to scream, but she couldn't get anything out from under his hand. She tried to move her upper body, do something to get away from Eliot.

Eliot didn't say anything else. Instead, he made a noise in the back of his throat. It was almost like he was getting off on Chloe's desperation.

He knew he had Chloe trapped. Even with her excercises, she simply didn't have the arm strength to overpower a fully grown human male pinning her down.

With a hand still under her mouth, he removed his other hand holding her wrists to the bed. He struggled only for a few seconds to lift her shirt and bra up and unbutton her jeans.

Chloe did her best. She tried to thrash and shake him, but she was powerless.

She could see his excitement. She could sense his pleasure in her predicament. She closed her eyes, just wishing for it all to stop.

"Get the _fuck_ off of her."

As suddenly as it had begun, Eliot's body weight was forcefully shoved off her. Chloe opened her eyes and pulled her arms over her torso, simeltaneously shielding her body and drawing deeper within herself.

She recognized the voice long before she saw the angel that came to her rescue.

"Rachel," she muttered to herself.

The next few moments happened in a blur. Rachel carried a lamp that stood just next to her computer desk. Eliot yelled that the blonde was a "crazy bitch!" but left before sustaining any significant damage from Rachel.

Chloe could hear through the ringing in her ears Rachel yelling at Eliot. "If you _ever_ come back again, I'll kill you myself!"

Rachel came back to Chloe's room. Her face was beat read, and she was left panting from the adrenaline and physical exertion. She looked ferocious, like a mama bear protecting her precious cub.

"Oh, Chloe." Rachel's voice broke as she approached the blue haired girl. Gently, Rachel climbed onto the bed and wrapped her arms around Chloe's shaking body. The girl in questioned flinched, but soon relaxed into the hold.

Rachel laid down next to her on the bed. Chloe buried her face deep into Rachel's chest. Not long after, Chloe couldn't stop the sobs that rocked her body. She stopped holding onto herself, and spread her arms around Rachel.

She clung onto her protector like her life depended on it. Rachel, for her part, gently ran a hand through her friend's short hair. She soothingly shushed her, while simeltaneously reminding her that it would be okay.

Rachel was patient. She let the vulnerable girl cry herself out. Now Chloe just felt numb, but she embraced it.

She brought a hand back around. She grabbed a hold of Rachel's black t shirt. She had to make sure that she was here. The scent she smelt was Rachel. She was no longer trapped under the horrific body weight of that monster.

Rachel had saved her. She had arrived just in time.

She was tired though. Tired of being broken. Tired of being lost. Tired of constantely being a damsel in distress. But she wouldn't have anyone else come to her aid.

There was no one else she would rather hold. No one else she would rather ball her eyes out to.

She continued to cry herself out for a few more minutes. Rachel continued to stroke her hair, unbothered.

"I'm sorry if I fall asleep." Chloe could feel Rachel's chin move above her noggin.

"I'm sorry about everything."

"Don't be," Rachel yawned. "It's not your fault. Remember that. You didn't ask for any of this."

Chloe took a moment to digest this. "But-"

"But nothing. You didn't ask to paralyzed. You didn't ask for Eliot to do what he did, the asshole."

"I know. But it's just-"

"Stop. Just be Chloe, okay? This world fucking sucks, don't let it break you."

Chloe hesitated. "You sound like a hallmark card."

Rachel chuckled dryly. "That's because I'm tired. I get all ranty when I haven't slept for like 30 hours."

"Jesus." Chloe sat up using her arms. She gazed down at Rachel. The girl just layed under her, obviously exhausted. The blonde laid a gentle hand on Chloe's cheek. Chloe reflexively leaned into the touch.

Her thumb gently scraped her cheek. "Eyelash," she clarified. She didn't remove her hand.

Chloe snorted the snot up her nose. Immediately, she regretted that decision. It sounded disgusting ti her. "Why haven't you slept?"

Rachel sighed dejectedly. "Long story short: my mom isn't actually my mom, and my dad is a selfish asshole."

"Fuck them."

"That's the punk I like to see."

Chloe just smirked.

"I need a favor, my blue haired rebel."

"What is it?" She was ready to help Rachel in any way possible. She had done so much for her.

"I need to crash here. Please. I swear I'll be gone by morning. I just somewhere warm to close my eyes. I don't want to go back home."

"Say no more." Chloe didn't want to hear Rachel plead anymore. It made her sick imagining her sad. "You can crash here. I'd like the company anyway."

Rachel kissed her cheek. "You're the absolute best."

Chloe blushed scarlet. She tried to hide it with a smile, but realized it would never work. "I try. I owe you so much."

"No, you don't. Chloe, you've kept my life sane since I've met you. The only good thing I've done you _might_ need repaying you're already repaying for. I mean, fuck, coming over here is the only thing I look forward to."

"You mean that?"

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything."

"I do. Come here."

Chloe felt shivers. She watched as Rachel closed her eyes and decreased the gap between them.

Her lips were like pillows. Like soft, cotton candy on her already swollen lips. They kissed, yet in a passionate rhythm. Their tongues tickled each other. Goosebumps rised on Chloe's forearms.

Thoughts of Eliot were forgotten. Thoughts of her ineptitude were forgotten. She had become lost in Rachel. The girl had single handedly broke her apart and reshaped her. And she loved it.

Rachel broke their kiss. She crashed her head back down on the pillow. "I'm going to pass out. Tell your parents I said hi."

"Will do."

Was she having an out-of-body experience? So many things were happening so fast. It was unfathomable how her life had gotten to this point.

She needed Max. She would put some sense to this bizarre situation.

Sure enough, Rachel was sound asleep. She quietly navigated herself out of her grasp and into her wheelchair. She grabbed her phone off the floor. It must have fallen after, well, everything. She wheeled herself out of the room and to the front door. She locked herself and Rachel in and called Max.

She called her numerous times. Each time it rang before going to voicemail. Chloe sighed, exasperated. She obviously must still be at her obsession's mom's funeral. She felt bad for the dude, but motherfucker, she needed her best friend.

In the end, she just left Max a text. She went back to her room and put in a different movie. She laid back down on the bed, next to Rachel. The girl grabbed Chloe, as if she were her favorite teddy bear. Chloe just grinned and let her drape an arm around her.

It looked like she would have to wait.

 **Max:**

They arrived just minutes later leaving the funeral. Max's stomach grew raw with anxiety for her friend. She could only hope that she was okay. She messaged her friend, telling her she was on her way.

It just didn't feel like they were moving fast enough. It was only minutes but it felt like hours. It was enough time for her to decide that she had been a terrible friend.

It all started when she moved to Seattle. Without Chloe to back her up, to make her feel brave, innocent Max was fed to the wolves. Within a week, she had earned the ire of the most popular girl in school, Heather. And Heather had a posse, and a violence fetish. She routinely harrassed and belittled Max.

Max had no one. She was afraid to go to anyone, even her parents. She grew accustomed to brusies. Wearing makeup to cover her ailments. To make herself look pretty, and less like a chicken legged freak.

She gave herself a personality. When she left Arcadia Bay originally, she was always a plain, preteen girl.

Then, she was fed to the sharks. Nobody could save her, except for herself. She drew into herself. Max forced herself to become more cold hearted, even malicious. She couldn't afford to be compassionate. To show weakness was to earn another punch. Another taunt. Another cruel nickname.

Then, two miracles happened. Heather got in trouble for shoplifting. Her parents weren't happy with their "little angel" becoming a "hardened criminal". They moved out of Seattle and settled into Aberdeen. At least that's what she heard.

Just like that, the social hierarchy of her old high school was shattered. No one was able to step in and take Heather's place. But from those ashes, Heather's openly lesbian, badass friend, Isabella asked her out.

Max had never had a relationship at that point. But, she had always been curious. Bi-curious to be exact. And Bella was always drop dead gorgeous. She was the take no prisoners, punch you in the mouth, type of badass. In a way, it almost reminded her of Chloe.

She said yes, and as it turned out, they were good together. They dated for four months, before Max found out the truth. Max was the girl Bella hung out with to avoid others. The girl she'd call when she wasn't happy. The punching bag if she were upset. The girl to have sex with if she couldn't find anyone else.

Max could have never ended it on her own. Not then anyway. Another popular boy, Noah saw her bruises one day. He confronted Bella for her.

Then they started dating. As it turned out, Noah only wanted her for her body. Ironic how they can bully her for it, then want to use it the second they believe they had a chance.

At that point, Max had had enough. She snapped then. Maxine was born on that day. The day she exposed Noah for who he truly was.

Over the next two years, Maxine slowly gained popularity. She immersed herself in drugs and alcohol. She became the ruler of her body, even if the nights she spent with the boys and girls never gave her lasting happiness. She never let anyone else hurt her again.

Quickly, Max learned that people only wanted to be near you for three reasons: to make themselves look better in the eyes of the social ladder, to have sex with, or both. She took these lessons with her back to Arcadia Bay.

The moment she arrived, she made the school her bitch, not the other way around. Soon, she had most of the school in the palm of her hand.

But she wasn't happy. Max never wanted power. She never asked to be feared. She never campaigned to be Queen Bee. All she wanted was a place to belong. To be respected. That's all she ever asked for.

Along the way, she supposed she lost sight of it all. As she saw the familar sight of the Price household in front of her, all Max could feel was bile in her throat.

 _What have I become?_ she thought to herself.

If Chloe knew her past, would she forgive her? Would she understand why the Max she knew now is so much different than the Max she knew that left so many years ago?

She glanced sideways at Warren. It was a miracle that someone like him even wanted to be around her. He wasn't tainted like she was. He withstood all the bullying, all the assholes, and he refused to change who he was. She couldn't stop admiring that about him.

Max couldn't help but want to show him who he really was. She wanted him to see the nerdy side of her. The dork she repressed for years. She wants to take him up on that joking offer to watch Final Fantasy. She wants to take him to the drive in or something.

"We're here."

Max blinked at him to answer. His voice had brought her back to reality. She unbuckled her seatbelt. She rushed out of the door, remembering that she was urgently needed.

"C'mon," she urged. She tried to keep the stressed tone out of her voice. "I'll introduce you to her."

"Okay. How long have you known this…?"

"Chloe." Max couldn't help but smile. "I've known her since I was a little kindergartener. We were best friends all the way til I moved to Seattle. I honestly can't wait for you to meet her." Even she was surprised by the enthusiasm in her tone.

"Well, I can't wait to meet her." Warren smiled. It was enough to make her worries fade away. At least, just a tad. "I'm sure she has a lot of stories of you two growing up."

"What are you implying?" she asked suspiciously.

"That she has stories of you doing something stupid."

Max gave him an evil look. He just laughed. She texted Chloe she was at her doorstep.

 _It's unlocked._

Max put her phone away. "By the way, Chloe's paralyzed."

"It's not a problem."

"Cool. I just wanted to let you know."

Max opened the door to the house. The living room was empty, as expected. She took a risk by taking Warren's head. He allowed her to lead him to Chloe's room.

What she wasn't expecting, was Rachel crashed on Chloe's bed. Even more surprising was Chloe entagled with the girl. Although she shouldn't be shocked, she knew Chloe had a thing for her. She only guessed Rachel returned the favor.

Chloe looked up at the two crossing her threshold. It occured to Max she probably should've warned Chloe before showing up with Warren. Chalk it up to her being a bad friend, again.

"You must be Max's…" she hesitated on seeing their intertwined hands. "Friend."

Max let go of Warren's hand. She felt ashamed of herself. Chloe must've thought she only went to the funeral to further her relationship with Warren.

"I'm Warren. It's nice to meet you. Max has told me so much about you."

That was a lie. But Max was grateful for it. Chloe's features marginally relaxed.

That drew Max's attention to her friend's features. Since when did she dye her hair blue?

Max remembered when they were little kids playing pirates. Chloe always proclaimed herself Captain Bluebeard. Her favorite color had always been ocean blue. It suited her. Even at a young age, she had been obsessed with blue hair.

Max grinned, thinking back on the memory. Chloe saw it, and she sent her a confused look. "Was the funeral that fun?"

Warren turned pale while Max shook her head vigorously. "No, your hair. It looks good."

Her friend subconsciously raised a hand to her hair. She seemed to recall that she dyed it. A small smile lit up her features. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," Warren added. "It really compliments you."

Chloe beamed at him. "Thanks, Warren."

"Do you mind if I ask what's wrong? Max had me break the speed limit multiple times to get here."

Of course, Warren would be anal about breaking the speed limit. Max tried not to let it show that she completely forgot that Chloe had been so desperate to get them here. She seemed like she was alright now, what possibly could have happened?

Chloe's expression darkened. She bit her lip and looked down at Rachel. That same girl quietly snored into Chloe's pillow. Chloe bit her lip. "A whole lot of shit."

"Well," Max grabbed the chair by Chloe's PC setup and motioned for Warren to grab a chair from the kitchen. "Warren and I have time."

As Warren returned with a chair, Chloe hesitated. It seemed like she wasn't sure if she wanted to share her problem with him in the room. Max considered asking for Warren to leave the room, but after a breath, Chloe told her story. She told them that she was bored at home, especially after her parents left. Since Max had to go with Warren to the funeral (she offered her condolences), and Rachel was busy, she felt lonely and bored. She texted Eliot and he showed up.

Aside from the normal curiosity, like how did Rachel end up here and where Eliot was now, Max had a bad feeling where this story was going.

She told them what happened between her and Eliot. How Rachel had come just in time to save her.

"Jesus," whispered Warren.

"Oh, my god, Chloe." Max stood and hugged her friend. Chloe welcomed it gracefully.

"I don't know what would have happened if Rachel hadn't shown up," Chloe sighed. "I really owe her."

"I should've been here. I'm a terrible friend."

"Don't do that, Max. Don't blame yourself. You had to go to the funeral."

Max shakes her head. "Not just that. Since I've come back. I've come over, like, twice? And the only other time you've seen me is when I'm absolutely trashed. I should be better for you."

Chloe almost looked startled. She wasn't expecting a heartfelt confession. "Where is this coming from?"

"I'm just…" Max stuttered. She looked at Warren. He seemed interested in her answer. She realized that although her and Warren had gotten to know each other over the last week, he didn't know who she really was. He knew she was secretly a nerd, yeah, but he wasn't aware of the dork inside. The girl he's known for the past few months is not the girl she is.

"I'm just trying to do better."

Chloe nodded. "I get that."

She looked down at Rachel. She tucked a loose hair behind the girl's ear. "Rachel's staying over. I guess she's having issues with her parents. She's going to try to sleep."

"We can go if you want," Warren offered.

"No," Chloe replied, a little too quickly. "I, uh, need you guys to keep me company. At least maybe until my parents get home? I don't want to be alone."

"Oh," Max nodded. "Okay. We'll find something to do. Do you have anything in mind?"

"Yeah. Tell me a story."

"A story?"

"Yep. Something from Seattle."

Max thought. At first, she tried to think of a funny story. Something pertaining to a friend she knew. Kristian maybe. But she decided against it. Now was a good time as any to tell them how she really felt about Seattle. It was time for them to understand Max Caulfield.

She licked her lips. They had suddenly become insanely dry. "Let me tell you about Seattle…"

She told them everything. She didn't spare any details about her experiences. Max couldn't bear to look at either of them as she spoke, but she could sense their empathy and understanding as she talked.

She felt strength, however. It felt good to let go. To shed the mask that she had worn since September. It felt good to be raw, naked and exposed to the world.

"I'm sorry, Max," Chloe muttered. "I didn't know."

Max shook her head sadly. "I didn't want you to know. You were stuck here for so long after I left, after the accident. I wanted you to believe I was living the best life possible. That I was the same Max that left Arcadia Bay when I was thirteen."

"You still are, you know. No matter how many clothes you buy, or how much weed you smoke, you're still going to be my best friend."

Max felt like she could cry, but she willed herself not to. She glanced over at Warren, who watched her with a sympathetic look. He was making a face Max couldn't recognize. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that I feel like an asshole for what I said the first night we studied."

Max shrugged. "It was justified. I'm not that great of a person."

Both Chloe and Warren made noises of protest. Max looked back and forth. "What?"

"You can't say that after what you've done for me," Warren pointed out.

"What do you mean?"

"Taking care of me after Damon beat me up, getting the Vortex Club to stop bullying me, going with me to the funeral. The entire Vortex Club knew, or at least had an idea that Stella was using me to buy her weed, but you were the one who exposed her."

Max stared down at her shoes. Suddenly, she was feeling bashful. "I just did what anyone would have done."

"Not anyone, Max." Warren shook his head sadly. "Not anyone else."

"You did what you did to survive," Chloe added. "You can't blame yourself for that."

Max bit her lip. Their words had made her feel better. It wasn't the outcome she was expecting. Warren placed a hand on her shoulder. And she smiled at him.

"So," Chloe cleared her throat to grab their attention. "Are you two a thing now?"

Max and Warren exchanged a sideways glance. Despite Warren already saying they were friends, Max couldn't help but want more than that. The thing was, what did Warren want? Did he feel it was too soon after Stella, after his mom's death?

Max wished she wasn't so selfish.

"No."

"I don't think so."

Chloe looked back and forth from the two of them. She must have decided not to push the issue. "Okay. Well, I think Rachel and I are a thing now."

She told them about their conversation after Rachel chased Eliot away. She told them how Rachel felt indebted to her.

Max beamed. "I'm so happy for you Chlo. You deserve it."

"I'm happy for you too," Warren chipped in. "Even though I don't know you that well."

Chloe yawned before holding up a grin. "Thanks. I am too. I'm also tired all the sudden."

"Well," Warren stood. "You've had an eventful day. We can leave if you want."

"Or," Max stood. She wasn't just ready to leave. She found that she missed Chloe. She missed hanging out with her. But she also wasn't ready to go back to Blackwell. "We could stay the night. It'd be like old times, except with Rachel. I can grab the air mattress while you guys sleep on the bed."

Chloe nodded. "Yeah, that sounds cool. Mom and Dad would love for you to stay."

"Alright," Warren took his turn to stand. Max had almost forgotten he was here, and now she felt guilty for it. "It was nice meeting you, Chloe."

He had picked up his chair and started to head for the door. He had almost crossed the threshold before Chloe's voice stopped him. "Whoa, whoa, whoa."

Warren turned, the chair still in hand. "Yeah?"

Chloe smirked. "Who said we were kicking you out?"

 **Warren:**

It took some convincing, especially from Chloe, but they managed to convince Joyce and William to let Warren stay. Perhaps it was because they saw a lot of William in Warren, or because they were glad Chloe finally had a social life. Chloe even speculated that they let him stay because they felt sympathy for his mom's passing. But, in the end, they let him stay, on the condition they all stay in Chloe's room.

Rachel stayed asleep the entire time. Turns out she really had been up for a long time. She was out like a light the entire time. Chloe fell asleep not long after the air mattress had been set up.

Because of the lack of room, Max and Warren were forced to share the air mattress, not that Warren minded too much. Max had changed out of her nice dress in favor of some of Chloe's clothes. She wore a light green cupcake shirt, and grey shorts. He had pointed out that the shirt was cute as a joke, not realizing the comment would cause Max's cheeks to burn brighter than the sun.

Warren changed too. He borrowed William's clothes. He wore a plain grey t shirt, and black basketball shorts. He caught her staring at his legs, but chose to ignore it. He just hoped she didn't notice him.

The boy and girl faced away from each other on the mattress. Warren stared at the white sheets that made up Chloe's bed. It was either that, or the full moon casting a dim light into the room. He supposed he could stare into the astronomy.

His thoughts were a jumble again. Only this time, they kept returning to one thing. Max.

Her smile, her laugh, her voice. They were the things that were keeping him up.

Warren understood many things. He was a prodigy, no matter how much he despised the label. He understood dark matter. He understood particle physics. He understood and could easily teach Chaos Theory. He knew so many things.

But there was one thing he didn't understand: Max Caulfield. At first, she was an anomoly. She was the first person to make him feel focused. To feel human. Now, in such short time, she was becoming something more.

He had had relationships before. From platonic to romantic, he had them. None of them were as strong as this… thing. None of them made him feel this way.

His skin ached to touch hers. His eyes begged to gaze at her for centuries

He shifted from his position on the air mattress. It's not that it was uncomfortable, it was fine. But he couldn't shut his mind off.

He turned to find Max's irises focused directly on his. Her face turned to one of concern.

"Can't sleep?"

With just two words, his fatigue had diminished. His mind became clearer.

"No," he answered. "You?"

Her eyes shone in the dim, natural light. Her face was gorgeous in every way. He loved the way her hair framed her face. "Me either. Too many things on my mind."

"Care to share?"

"Not really," Max whispered. "I don't want to wake them. But why can't you sleep?"

Suddenly, everthing was clear. "I just feel like I'm missing something."

"Really?" Max mused. "I do too."

Warren could only stare. He could hear his heart beat in his chest. He could feel every noise fade away into the backround. He closed his eyes, the image of Max's irises burned into his mind.

He felt soft lips push into his own. Somehow, he knew it was going to happen. He brought his hand up to cup her face.

They kissed quietly yet passionately. She tasted like hope. Serenity.

She climbed on top of him. She straddled his waist, their lips never breaking apart. His hands moved to her hips and came to a rest.

Maybe Warren would never understand what effect Max had on him. Perhaps he'll never know. But this, this was enough.


	11. Everglow (Epilogue)

Light flashed beyond the clouds and thunder crackled, shaking the foundations of the house. Fat raindrops splattered all over the window, as if heaven itself were crying.

Max shivered as a chill ran up her spine. She bit her lip as she covered her shoulders with the throw blanket beside her. The white glow of the laptop screen burned into her retinas.

Max glanced out into the storm. It was almost as if she could feel the rain on her skin.

A beam of light splayed across her room. She allowed herself to imagine it was a spotlight catching her in some criminal act. In all reality, it was just the lighthouse.

There was something alluring about the lighthouse. Some foreign pull in her very soul that compelled her to the landmark. When the property adjacent to it had come up for rent, over the summer, she had decided it was more than worth it.

"The lighthouse again?"

Max felt her lips break into a soft smile. "Always."

"You're obsessed... Tickle attack!"

"Stop!" she shrieked as 176 pounds of lanky boy tackled her. Familiar fingers played at her sides, filling her entire being in giggles. Loud, unabashed laughter filled the otherwise quiet room. Shadows danced behind them whilst Max attempted to desperately untangle her herself out from under her captor.

"Please! Stop!" she pleaded.

"Fine," he gruffed. "But only cause you asked politely." His intoxicatingly warm breath filled tickled her neck. He now lay right on top of her, but at an angle. His torso laid on top of hers, while her legs were free.

Still, she hesitated to squirm out from under her captor. That was to her detriment.

He heaved the rest of his warm body on top of her. He lifted his head to gaze into her blue irises. "Round 2?" he asked around his dimples.

"Never," she hissed. "You know I hate it when you do that."

Warren's lips pursed together. "Hm, I don't recall you hating it. Sounds to me like you were having a lot of fun."

"You and I have different ideas of fun."

He just smirked in answer. She stared into his own brown eyes longingly. Patient.

Instead of taking an obvious hint, he made to move from over her. So dense.

Her legs sprung forth to trap his waist. She made a noise in the back of her throat to voice her discontentment. She reached her hands around his neck and pulled him down towards her into a kiss.

The kiss was light, and soothing. It filled her with an everglow. The kind in which she couldn't show in any other way than this. This moment right here. She never knew how long she waited to have this feeling.

They joined like this for a few more moments, before the pain became too much. Max lifted his face lightly off hers.

"I thought you had a migraine?"

Max closed her eyes tightly. "I do. But it comes in waves. You usually make it better."

Warren beamed, yet he looked concerned. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Just hold me."

He nodded and slunk off of her. She turned to face the window. She heard him shut the laptop and grab the blanket that had been savagely fallen to the ground in their melee. He had thrown the gratifyingly warm blanket around them. Warm hands wrapped around her sternum.

She melted beneath him as she gazed out the window. The rain seemed to slow down, almost to a crawl.

"Chloe and Rachel get home safe?" she mumbled.

"Yeah. They texted me a little bit ago before I came in. I'd hoped you'd be asleep."

"Me too."

Max couldn't remember when the headaches started. It could've been around September or October. What she did know, is that it came randomly and suddenly with no explanation. There'd be times when she lost track of minutes or hours, even a day when it struck. She didn't let anyone know. In fact, she didn't let most people know much about her.

Except him. He was the exception. Warren saw the beauty in her shadows. He was the lighthouse in her storm.

Usually she tried to sleep the aches away, but it was 50/50. Some nights the pain was so unbearable she couldn't sleep. Other nights, it'd pass her right out. He didn't understand it as much as she did. Initially, he tried to make sense of it. So did the doctors. Inevitably, they had all decided that it was random. And debilitating

They laid in silence. Once again, she was grateful for him, but the throbbing was too much. With the sky unfolding before them, she racked her muddled brain for some distraction.

"Teach me something."

He snuggled closer. "What do you want me to teach you?"

She wasn't sure. The only thing she knew was that from the beginning, she loved being taught by him. His patience and understanding was one of the things she loves about him.

Is one of the things she loves about him.

"Constellations," she breathed.

"Okay."

He reached out a hand as he pointed towards the different constellations. She reached out a hand to intertwine with his pointing fingers. Orion, Scorpius, Lyra, it didn't matter. All that mattered was the sound of his voice, drowning out the pain inside her head. The quiet passion in his voice soothed her core.

She drifted to sleep with thoughts of him. Always him. And when Max dreamed, she dreamt of flying.

 **Hey y'all, sorry it took so long. After some time, I decided to kill the story. At least where it had been going. I decided I didn't want to do Jefferson as a villain. I had done it before in Coming Home and I didn't want to do again. Add the fact it didn't have any build up really... It would've been more trouble than it was worth.** **So I wrote a chapter, more an epilogue to wrap the whole thing up. And to be honest, I like it a heck of a lot more. I don't know when or if I might do more LiS, especially with Max and Warren but who knows. You never know when inspiration will strike.** **Til next time, Holywoodunderfed.**


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